


Good Grief

by orphan_account



Series: Stucky AUs [18]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Kid Fic, M/M, big brother Bucky, just minor though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: All Bucky wants is to be the best he can be for Becca. It gets harder when his feelings start getting in the way.





	

“I don't want to go to a new school.”

 

Bucky grips the wheel tighter, willing his hands to stop shaking.

 

“Becca-” he says, but she cuts him off.

 

“I know, I know,” she grumbles, her feet hitting the back of his seat. “I get it, but that doesn't mean I wanna.”

 

“Ms Romanoff seemed nice, though,” Bucky prompts. They had a meeting with her and Ms Hill, the principal, last week when they moved in and Bucky's confident it's a good school.

 

“I guess,” Becca mutters, but she stops kicking his seat. Bucky focuses on the road.

 

* * *

 

The school’s buzzing when they arrive at quarter to nine; parents sorting their kids into their classrooms, younger siblings chasing each other through the legs of adults, dogs pulling on leads to chase stray balls. Becca's still sulking, but she's stopped complaining so Bucky takes it as a win.

 

“It'll be okay,” Bucky assures her with a gentle squeeze to her hand.

 

“I know, Bucky. You've only told me a million times,” she sighs, but she clings slightly tighter to him so he doesn't mention the attitude.

 

“And it's the start of the school year, you won't be the only new kid,” Bucky continues, pushing the door to corridor open and letting go of his sister's hand so she can go first.

 

There's a hook with Becca’s name on it in the cloak bay, bright blue letters between a Rose and a Joshua. Becca unhooks her bag from Bucky's arm and slides it onto its peg before draping her coat over it.

 

Ma bought that coat for her, last summer. It's light and easy to carry, but wind proof too. Perfect for summer.

 

“C'mon, loser,” Becca says, nudging Bucky's arm but not taking his hand. She's eight now, too old for all that. Bucky swallows around the lump in his throat and follows her into the classroom.

 

“Rebecca!” Ms Romanoff exclaims as they walk into the classroom. She finishes pinning a brightly coloured bunting to the wall and hops downs from the chair to greet them. “I'm Natasha Romanoff, I'll be your teacher this year.”

 

“I remember you,” is all Becca says. Her eyes are scanning the room, already assessing the class.

 

“Becca's going to OSCAR after school, will she be okay to get there?” Bucky asks, fidgeting with the hood on Becca's top.

 

“It's just across the field,” Natasha says, pointing out the window. “A few of my kids will go over, but I can walk her there, too.”  She turns to Becca and grins. “We can decide at the end of the day.”

 

“Thank you,” Bucky says, taking his hands from his sister's hood and leaving them to awkwardly hang at his side. The bell rings and the kids in the class start to settle on the mat, the rest filing in through the door. Bucky's not the only parent- _caregiver_ , so Becca isn't too embarrassed to give him a big hug before he goes.

 

“Please call me if you need to,” Bucky quietly says to Natasha before leaving the classroom and heading off to work.

 

* * *

 

“How was your day?” Bucky asks when he comes to pick Becca up from OSCAR. She shrugs and grabs her bag from a bright green cubby.

 

“Okay, I guess. The adults are nice.”

 

“The adults?" Bucky presses.

 

“Yeah. Ms Romanoff and Peggy and Sharon and everyone else at OSCAR.”

 

“Oh. Cool. What about the kids?” Bucky tries to ask casually. Judging by the unimpressed look Becca gives him, he's not all that successful.

 

“They're fine. Nothing wrong with them.”

 

“Cool,” Bucky repeats. “What do you want for dinner?”

 

“Wraps,” Becca says, and that's the end of that conversation.

 

* * *

 

Mornings have always sucked, but now that Bucky's the adult of the house they're even worse. When he first moved out they were difficult, but it was okay because he was the only one who had to pay for sleeping in. Now that he's got Becca under his roof, however, he has to be _mature_ about it and actually get up when his alarm goes off.

 

“Rise n’ shine, sweetheart,” Bucky groans, switching on Becca's light. She makes a weird moaning sound and snuggles her head deeper into the pillow.

 

“Maybe we should have a sick day,” she suggests, words muffled by the pillow in her mouth. “Just spend it sleeping. Maybe watch some movies in our pj’s.”

 

“Don't tempt me, Becs. I will ruin your life,” Bucky sighs, flickering the light to bug her. “Get up or I'll take us round to Clint’s for dinner.”

 

“You wouldn't!” Becca gasps, head flying up from the pillow.

 

“I would. Now get a move on.”

 

Clint's great. He's fun and easy-going and loyal and helpful and his heart is always in the right place. He's Bucky's best friend, one of his favourite people in the world. He's practically perfect, except he's sort of an enormous mess, and he can't cook for shit. Bucky loves him.  

 

“This is child abuse, I swear. Forcing me up with the threat of Clint's cooking,” Becca mutters as she walks into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. She's got wicked bed hair, sticking up in more directions than should be physically possible. Bucky laughs at her and tussles it with his free hand. (The other one is nursing his sweet, sweet coffee.)  

 

“Bucky, stop it,” she whines, but she's smiling, and that was Bucky's aim all along.

“I'm gonna shower. Eat your breakfast, punk.”

 

“Eat your breakfast, punk.” Becca parrots back in a whiny voice. Bucky snorts and leaves her to it.

 

He's buttoning up his shirt when Becca knocks on his door, three shy raps.

 

“You'd better have finished breakfast!” Bucky warns, swinging the door open. He was expecting to find Becca with blankets draped around her shoulders and her smug little grin, but instead he's faced with her bowed head and hunched shoulders. He drops to his knees immediately.

 

“Becca, hey, what's wrong?” He coos, pulling her into his arms. She tucks her head under his chin and clings to his shirt.

 

“I miss them,” she whimpers. Bucky's heart does that thing where it feels like it's both too small and too big at the same time, aching in his chest. He holds her tighter.

 

“Of course you do, baby,” he says, brushing back her hair and kissing her forehead. “You're allowed to miss them.”

 

“Do you ever feel fine, and then realise they're gone forever and we'll never see them again and we're orphans now and-” she cuts off with hiccups, turning her face back into Bucky's chest.

 

“Let's not go to school today, huh?” Bucky offers. He's not sure he can pull another day off work, but there's no way he's going to force Becca into 8 hours alone with strangers. Not when she's this vulnerable.

 

“I wanna go to school. It's only day 2. I just need to cry first,” Becca tells him, still bundled up in his arms.

 

It's been six months since George and Winnie died in a car crash, and sure, Bucky's an adult now, he's twenty-four and has been living on his own for five years, but Becca's just a kid. Her whole world has been turned upside down.

 

“Let it out,” Bucky whispers. “Take as long as you need to.”

 

* * *

 

They arrive at school on time, and Becca's face is barely even splotchy. No kid will notice, and Bucky doubts any adult will, either.

 

“Don't forget, you've got after school care today,” Bucky reminds her as they walk to her classroom.

 

“I won't,” Becca sighs.

 

“Good girl. I'll see you at five-thirty.”

 

“Bye, Bucky!” She calls over her shoulder as she disappears through the door.

 

Bucky makes his way back to his car via the office, hoping to speak with Hill before he leaves. He’s in luck; she’s behind the counter, leaning on the desk with a coffee in her hand.

 

“Hey, Mr Barnes,” she greets with a smile.

 

“Ms Hill. Could I please have a word with you?” Bucky asks, smoothing a hand down the crease in his shirt. Hill glances around the office before nodding to her door. Bucky follows her inside.

 

“What’s up?” She asks, setting her coffee down on her desk. Her full attention is on him and suddenly Bucky feels very small.

 

“Becca wasn’t in the best place this morning,” Bucky says, not sure what he should be doing with his hands. He settles for shoving them awkwardly in his pant pockets. “She insisted on coming in today, but please call me if she needs me, okay?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Hill says, tilting her head slightly. “She’s going through a lot- you both are. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is she getting counselling?”

 

Bucky’s heart sinks in his chest, because that hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’s been so focused on managing the wills, and finding a house big enough for Becca to live in, and selling their parents’ old house, and enrolling Becca in an affordable school close enough to his job, and, and and. And he forgot to even consider the extent of the trauma being orphaned at 8 could do to her.

 

“You’ve done nothing wrong, James,” Hill says, cutting into Bucky’s thoughts. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, you can’t be expected to think of everything.”

 

Bucky nods, but he can’t agree with her. This should’ve been his first concern, damn it.

 

“We have someone here she could see, if you’re interested. He’s been here for six years, and the kids love him,” Hill offers. Bucky finds himself nodding.

 

“That sounds great, thank you. I- thank you.”

 

* * *

 

“It’s been half a year and I still haven’t gotten around to getting Becca a counsellor,” Bucky says to Clint as they walk through the park. Becca’s up ahead of them, holding Lucky’s leash. It’s her favourite thing to do, take him for a walk and pretend he’s actually hers.

 

“Are you seeing a counselor?” Clint asks. Bucky can’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but he can tell from the way his friend’s head is tilted that he’s probably reading Bucky’s lips.

 

“No. The whole counselor thing didn’t even cross my mind,” Bucky admits, signing as he speaks.

 

“Then it’s not about you getting around to it, it’s about you having lots to deal with and not enough time,” Clint says. “You’re not responsible for the entire world, you know.”

“I know that,” Bucky says, maybe a bit too harshly. “But I am responsible for her.”

 

“So what are you going to do about it?” Clint prompts. Bucky looks from him to Becca, who’s stopped in the grass with Lucky, kneeling at his side while she rubs his tummy. She’s laughing and the sun’s filtering through the trees, and a wave of affection hits Bucky again. This is his sister, he’s all she’s got. He has to do better.

 

“Hill said they have a counselor at the school. She can talk to him.”

 

“Well, then,” Clint grins, clapping Bucky on the shoulder. “Really, you’re okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I made a friend today,” Becca says from the backseat. Bucky glances over his shoulder to grin at her. She's only had four full days at this school, he's pleased to hear she's already got a friend.

 

“That's great, baby! Are they in your class?”

 

Bucky can see Becca shake her head in the rear-view mirror.

 

“No, she's at OSCAR. Her name is Wanda and she likes dogs. Can she come over and play with Lucky?”

 

“Sure,” Bucky says, because there's no way he's gonna tell Becca she can't have friends over. “But Lucky is actually Clint’s dog, so you'll have to ask him.”

 

“We also have to have strawberry yoghurt because that's Wanda's favourite food and she eats it every day and she hasn't been here before and I want her to like it here. So we need to make sure she has strawberry yoghurt,” Becca adds. Bucky nods.

 

“Right. Strawberry yoghurt.”

 

“And also you have to be nice to her.”

 

“Of course I'll be nice to her,” Bucky promises. Why wouldn't he?

 

“She gets scared sometimes, Bucky, and she gets loud and sometimes people are _mean_ but you have to be nice and maybe leave her alone because she doesn't know you.”

 

“Okay,” Bucky says. He doesn't know what else to say. “Well. I'm glad she's got you to be nice to her.”

 

“Steve from OSCAR says she's autistic but I don't know what that means.”

 

“It means she might have trouble communicating ideas. And sometimes things might get too much for her, but that's okay. Everyone is different, and that's a good thing. As long as you listen to her and try your best to help her if she needs it, I'm sure the two of you will be fine,” Bucky tries. He's never had to explain autism before and he's never met Wanda so that doesn't exactly help him explain what her needs are, but Becca's a smart girl and he'll meet Wanda soon. It'll be alright.

 

“I like Wanda. She knows _everything_ about dogs and she lets me be the youngest when we play puppies, and she drew a picture of a dog for me. It's in my bag but we can put it on the fridge when we get home.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay,” Bucky says. Becca's so happy talking about her new friend, and he can't keep the smile off his face.

It's about midday when Bucky realises he won't be leaving the office as early as he'd hoped. They're swamped with docs to file and honestly, with traffic on top of that it's not likely Bucky will be home before 6.

 

He calls Clint first, but it goes straight to answerphone.

 

He calls Kate, and she picks up straight away.

 

“The phone was in my hand, I did _not_ rush to pick up,” she says.

 

“Cool,” Bucky says. “That is so interesting. Wow.”

 

“Shut it. What do you want?” Kate sighs, and Bucky can hear her fumbling around on the other end of the line.

 

“Hey, who says I want anything? I could just be ringing to catch up,” Bucky protests. Dugan rolls his eyes at him from across the office.

 

“History says that. What do you need?”

 

“A babysitter,” Bucky admits. “Becca needs to be picked up from her after school care because I won't make it in time.”

 

“Oh. Cool, I can do that.” Kate says. He was half expecting her to kick up a fuss, so he's ready to pay her anyway.

 

“I can-” He starts, but she cuts him off.

 

“Bring home pizza for dinner. We'll call it even.”

 

“I love you, Katie!” Bucky calls down the phone.

 

“Shut up, you piece of-”

 

Bucky hangs up.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky picks up enough pizza for the four of them, because there's no way Kate hasn't told Clint there'll be pizza and he'd rather get too much than not enough.

 

“Steve said I should be an artist!” Becca calls out as soon as Bucky walks through the door. He was right; Clint’s splayed across the couch, Becca on the floor with his dog.

 

“Who's Steve?” Bucky asks, laying the pizzas on the table.

 

“He's an OSCAR teacher. He helped me and Wanda paint this,” Becca explains, pulling a piece of paper from her school bag. She shoos Lucky off her lap and comes up to show Bucky.

 

The picture is splotchy with two brown dogs and bright green grass. The sun is smiling and there are little blue flowers everywhere, and the whole scene is adorable.

 

“Steve's right,” Bucky grins, walking to pin the picture to the fridge. “This is incredible, baby.”

 

“We made two but Wanda has one,” Becca says. She smiles when she sees Bucky put it up on display.

 

“Well then, superstar, I can't wait to see what else you create for our walls!” Bucky puts his hand on Becca's shoulder to steer her back out to the lounge. The pizza will go cold if they don't start them soon. “Dinner time!” He calls, and Kate and Clint come join them.

 

* * *

 

“You should go out tonight,” Kate says, seemingly out of nowhere. Bucky glances up from his laptop and raises an eyebrow at her.

 

“Take Clint. Go to The Hammered Nail and give yourself a break. You work too hard,” she continues, swiping hair off her forehead. She's been growing out her fringe since forever, but never seems to get anywhere with it.

 

“You want to babysit,” Bucky says with a smirk. Kate blushes slightly.

 

“I love Bex,” Kate says. Her cheeks are too pink for that to be the only reason, though. Bucky leans back in his seat and glances at the door. Clint and Becca took Lucky out for a walk just after dinner, and they probably won't be back for another twenty minutes at least.

 

“You want money for a date,” Bucky grins. Kate groans and slams her head on the table.

 

“I hate you,” she whines.

 

“Tell me about him and I'll consider giving you money.”

 

“She's not a _him_ ,” Kate snaps. Her hands fly up to cover her mouth and she looks at him with wide eyes.

 

“Congratulations,” Bucky says after a moment of silence. “Is she a good person?”

 

“The best.” Kate's tone indicates she _really_ doesn't want to keep talking about this, and since she accidentally outed herself Bucky decides he'll drop it.

 

“Stay at my place. Bed by 8 for Becca, you have the wifi, please don't drink all the coffee,” Bucky sighs.

 

“You're the best, Uncle Bucky!” Kate cheers.

 

“Never call me Uncle Bucky again,” Bucky winces, shaking his head.

 

“You’re still the best,” she whispers. Bucky doesn't bother hiding his grin.

 

* * *

 

 

The Hammered Nail isn’t overly busy, but it isn’t empty either. Bucky buys the first pitcher of beer while Clint grabs them a booth near the dartboard.

 

“How much you wanna bet-” Clint starts when Bucky returns, but Bucky shuts him down.

 

“I am not placing real money on a darts game with you,” Bucky laughs, taking a drink. “Not sober.”

 

“Then drink up!” Clint says, and Bucky does just that.

 

\---

 

Bucky’s not drunk, but he is pleasantly buzzed when he returns from the bathroom. He stops by the bar to order another drink for each of them before heading back to their booth. Except- Clint isn’t alone. There’s a woman with him and he looks absolutely smitten. And that woman is Becca’s teacher. Bucky turns around and heads back to the bar with his drinks. He’s not gonna get in the way of Clint, even if that means he has to drink alone. Bucky Barnes is a good friend.

 

“Do you come here much? I swear I’ve seen your face before,” a familiar voice asks as someone slides into the seat next to him. Bucky recognises the voice, but he can’t place it until he turns around.

 

“Steve,” he says, feeling a grin spread across his face. He met Steve a few months ago- just after his parents died and he needed a distraction. They slept together and he hasn't seen the guy since, but he’s been understandably busy these last six months.

 

“Hey, Bucky.” Steve smiles, and it makes Bucky feel a little less lonely.

 

“Want a drink?” Bucky suddenly offers, remembering Clint’s untouched glass beside him. “My friend ditched me.”

 

“How convenient,” Steve smirks, and he takes the glass. His eyes sparkle, and-  maybe it’s the light, or maybe Bucky’s projecting- Bucky wants to go home with him tonight. “So did mine.”

 

Bucky glances around the bar, but almost everyone is coupled off and he doesn't care too much to try and spot Steve's friend.

 

“We're practically soul mates,” Bucky deadpans, swiveling in his stool so he can face Steve. Steve mirrors the action so their knees knock together, not enough room between them for all four legs.

 

“Practically,” Steve agrees with an easy grin. “Wanna ditch this place and get married?”

 

“We could live in Italy. Pizza and pasta, nothing else you need.”

 

“We could adopt a couple of children,” Steve adds, and he closes his eyes as he drinks so he misses whatever flashes over Bucky's face when he thinks of Becca.

 

“Can we win the lottery?” Bucky asks, tapping on the rim of his glass.

 

“I don't see why not,” Steve shrugs. “It sure would make life easier.”

 

“And get a cat,” Bucky continues. He's considering getting a cat for Becca, but they're out of the house all day and it's not fair. Maybe once they're more settled.

 

“M’allergic to cats,” Steve frowns.

 

“This is never going to work out between us,” Bucky gasps, bringing his hand to his mouth to cover his laugh.

 

“Our marriage, already in shambles!” Steve exclaims in the most _ridiculous_ voice Bucky has ever heard. “Can we have one last night of passion before we go our own ways?”

 

It's possibly the stupidest way someone has ever asked Bucky for sex, but he finds himself grinning and leaning into Steve as he agrees.

 

\---

 

They go to Steve's, because he offers and Bucky doesn't want to take Steve back when Kate and Becca are at his place.

 

They catch a cab and neither of them is actually drunk but they're both giggling and Bucky feels carefree in a way he hasn't since his parents died.

 

“God, I'm thirsty,” Steve breathes into Bucky's mouth, his hands on Bucky's hips and their chests pushed together. Bucky leans back against Steve's closed door and grins.

 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, slightly out of breath. “Me too, it's good.”

 

“For water,” Steve clarifies with a grin, pulling off Bucky and dragging him down the hallway.

 

“That's totally what I meant,” Bucky says as he lets Steve pull him along.

 

“Sure,” Steve scoffs, grabbing a glass from a cabinet. “You want one?”

 

“I'm good,” Bucky admits. He hopes Steve's not fussed about sitting on furniture because he hops up onto the counter while Steve gets his drink.

 

“Sorry,” Steve says once he's drained his glass. He moves in to stand between Bucky's knees, and Bucky assumes he doesn't care about butts on the counter. “I just get real dehydrated.”

 

“Thirsty as fuck,” Bucky supplies. Steve laughs, a low chuckle, and moves to pick Bucky up.

 

It's hot, the way Steve can so easily maneuver Bucky around like he's a sack of feathers. Bucky isn't a small guy by any means, but Steve makes him feel small. Small and safe, in a good way, like maybe he doesn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes up at 3:47am. It’s what the alarm clock across the room says, anyway. It could be slow. Or fast. Or broken.

 

It doesn’t really matter though, because it’s not his which means it’s Steve’s, which means he’s not at home which means he needs to get home so he’s there when Becca and Kate get up. Bucky groans and sits up.

 

“Want me to pretend to be asleep so it isn’t awkward?” Steve’s sleepy voice offers as Bucky slips back into his jeans.

 

“I’m not sneaking out,” Bucky laughs, coming over to give Steve a morning kiss. “But I do gotta get home.”

 

"How are you getting home?” Steve asks, propping himself up on his elbows as Bucky goes back to gathering his clothes off the floor.

 

“Dunno. Taxi, probably,” Bucky shrugs.

 

“That’ll cost a fortune. Come on, I’ll drop you.”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky protests, but Steve’s already out of bed and half dressed.

 

“We can get breakfast on the way,” Steve continues.

 

“What, at Denny’s?” Bucky scoffs. He’s not a snob, but Denny’s at 4am is like, the least pleasant place to be.

 

“No, not Denny’s,” Steve says with a scrunched up face. “There’s a good place close by, opens at 5. Best coffee.”

 

“It’s 4am, Steve. That’s still an hour away,” Bucky points out. Steve raises an eyebrow at him and tosses Bucky’s phone to him.

 

“That clock’s fucked. I only use it for the radio,” Steve explains as Bucky checks his phone. It reads 5:09.

 

“Well,” Bucky says, “Let’s go get coffee.”

 

* * *

 

They pull up outside a proudly-proclaimed vegan diner and Bucky scrunches up his nose. Maybe he is a snob, whatever. Sue him.

 

“Are you a vegan?” He asks Steve as they climb off his bike. Steve shakes his head, messing up his already ruffled helmet hair.

 

“No, but I'm lactose-intolerant so this is one place I can count on,” Steve says, pulling his arm around Bucky's waist and giving him a slight squeeze. It's more of a  couple-y gesture than a one-night-stand gesture, but it feels so good and Steve doesn't even seem to notice he's done it, so Bucky doesn't say anything.

 

“I don't really have much of an appetite in the morning,” Bucky admits as they make their way inside. “But I'm always up for coffee.”

 

“Their quiche is to die for. I think I'll get a slice to take away,” Steve says, nose pressed up against the food cabinet. Bucky rolls his eyes at the unfairly adorable sight in front of him. It's too early for this, goddamn it.

 

It's also too early for any coffee other than black, Bucky decides as Steve orders in front of him. Bucky's not often a black-coffee guy, but it's before six am so he's gonna.

 

“Try the muffins,” Steve whispers in his ear, and Bucky follows his gaze. They're blueberry- Becca's favourite- and they look amazing, so he adds half a dozen to his order.

 

When their coffees are ready Steve thanks the barista by name and she smiles at him like she knows him. Her hair is blue and long and she hardly glances at Bucky. He realises, as they head outside, she's probably used to Steve bringing his hook-ups here the Day After.

 

He's not sure how he feels about that.

 

“I can't drink and drive,” Steve says, cutting into Bucky's thoughts. He sets his take away bag in the box under the seat and motions for Bucky to do the same.

 

“Good call,” Bucky says. The sun's already up and he squints in the early morning light. He absently wishes he had his sunglasses.

 

“Let's sit up here,” Steve suggests, clambering up onto the brick wall of the carpark. He looks good, sitting up there in the warm glow of the sunrise, dark jeans and leather jacket sticking out against the fading red of the bricks. Bucky takes a moment to admire the view before handing over his own coffee and jumping up beside Steve.

 

“I had a good time last night,” Bucky says, voice softer than he thought it would be. It's the ultimate cliche, but it rings with truth.

 

“Me too,” Steve grins, brighter than the rising sun. It warms Bucky up from the inside and he ducks his head down.

 

“Take my number,” Steve continues. “Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

 

“Next free weekend I have,” Bucky promises. “I'll hit you up.”

 

Something on Steve's face changes slightly, but it could just be the lighting so Bucky elects to ignore it as Steve enters his number into the phone.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky gets a call from Ms Romanoff next week when he’s at work.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” she opens with, as if she can read Bucky’s mind, and it works. It can’t be good if she’s calling him in the middle of the day, but at least it’s not too bad.

 

“What can I do for you?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too unprepared.

 

“Rebecca’s been saying some interesting things today. Some things I feel you should probably hear about. Are you available to come in and talk to me some stage this week?”

 

Bucky’s heart leaps into his throat because Becca has a tendency to let her mouth run, and she’s in a pretty bad place at the moment. Anything could happen.

 

“I could see you today before I pick her up?” Bucky offers, hoping he’s not forcing her to stay behind longer than she’d want. “About five?”

 

“That’s perfect,” Ms Romanoff says in a soft voice. “See you tonight, Mr Barnes.”

 

Bucky buries his face in his hands when she hangs up. _Mr Barnes_ makes him feel to adult, but he’s raising his kid sister on his own, so maybe he should get used to the damn feeling.

 

* * *

 

It’s raining when Bucky gets to the school, so no one’s outside. He ducks his head to keep his face dry best as possible as he crosses the field to get to Becca’s class.

 

“Mr Barnes,” Ms Romanoff says when Bucky gets inside, “Hello.”

 

“Please, call me James,” Bucky says awkwardly, folding himself down into one of the kiddie chairs.His legs are too long for it, but he makes it work.

 

“Then call me Natasha,” Becca’s teacher says. There’s an awkward silence when Natasha flits around her desk for a minute and Bucky doesn’t know how to handle it. He just sits in his tiny chair and looks at the art hanging up around the room.

 

“Sorry, I should've been more organised,” Natasha sighs when she finds the papers and settle back into her (adult-sized) chair.

 

“It’s okay,” Bucky says.

 

“Becca is a wonderful kid. She is smart and caring and always tries her best, but she also knows how to push buttons.”

 

“Yeah, she- yeah,” Bucky agrees, shifting in his seat. “What did she do?”

 

“We’ve been talking about heroes, and what makes a hero. She put up her hand to share and said you were her hero.”

 

Bucky digs his nails into his palms, breathing evenly through his nose. Now is _not_ the time to cry.

 

“She talked about you, said that you are kind to her and love her lots. Then another kid said she wished her brother was as nice as you are, and Becca said-” Natasha glances at the paper in front of her and reads out, “- _I wish my parents were alive like yours. Maybe if your parents die he’ll be nice to you_.”

 

Bucky doesn’t know how to respond to the. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Natasha. They just sit there for a moment, looking at each other. Then Natasha cracks a smile.

 

“I love your sister, James, I really do. But she’s clever, and she knew full well that’d make Rose cry.”

 

“I’ll talk to her,” Bucky promises.

 

“She’s also a nice kid. I know that. She cares deeply about her peers, she always lets them join in and she encourages them if they’re down. I don’t think she was after Rose, I think she was after a reaction,” Natasha explains.

 

“Yeah. Have you talked to the counsellor? Sam Wilson?” Bucky asks, because he knows that Becca loves him, and the guy’s the best qualified to help his sister out.

 

“Yes, we’ve talked it over. She’s not the only kid in my class he sees, so we keep very up to date.”

 

“Good. That’s good. And that other kid? Rose? How’s she?”

 

Natasha smiles again, face soft and eyes kind. “She’s fine.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I talked to Ms Romanoff today,” Bucky casually mentions over dinner. Becca freezes for a second, fork halfway to her mouth, before resuming as if she'd done nothing.

 

“And how was she?” Becca asks in that voice she uses when she's trying to sound grown up.

 

“She said you made a kid cry in class.”

 

“Rose _always_ cries in class,” Becca says instantly. “I don't think I had anything to do with it.”

 

“Rebecca,” Bucky says.

 

“ _James_ ,” Becca snaps back,dropping her fork and glaring at him. Bicky sighs.

 

“Becca, stop it. Can you tell me what happened?”

 

“You talked to Ms Romanoff. You already know what happened,” she mutters.

 

“I want to hear it from you,” Bucky says gently.

 

Becca looks at him for a moment, weighing up her options.

 

“She has nice parents and her mum is always the parent-help when we have one and they pick her up from school every day and her brother's not even mean, she just doesn't like him. And she always complains about them but she still has them! She tells me every day that she wishes they would leave her alone and I don't like it! I don't want to hear about her parents when mine are dead. It feels like she's showing off,” Becca cries, slumping forwards and resting her head on the table. Bucky leans over to move her dinner out of the way.

 

“Becca,” Bucky whispers, heart in his throat.

 

“Am I in trouble?” She asks, not looking up. Bucky shakes his head.

 

“No, baby, of course not. All I want is for you to see Sam a bit more, okay?”

 

“I like Sam,” Becca says in a quiet voice.

 

“I'm glad you do. Do you talk to him much?” Bucky asks.

 

“Yeah. He's easy to talk to and he's funny.” Becca lifts her head up and grins at Bucky. Her eyes are slightly glossy but she's not actively crying. “He's like you.”

 

“How is that?” Bucky asks, matching her grin with a raised eyebrow.

 

“He's got a _husband._ ”

 

“I don't have a husband,” Bucky scoffs, but he knows what she means.

 

“You like boys and he likes boys. Close enough,” Becca shrugs.

 

“I bet he'd make you eat your vegetables, too,” Bucky says, waving a piece of broccoli on his fork at her.

 

“Probably,” Becca agrees, shoving her own piece in her mouth. Bucky grins.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky takes Becca to see her best friend for the weekend. He picks her up after school on Friday, leaving a message at OSCAR that she won't be in.

 

“Do you think Maddie has a new best friend?” She asks from the back seat.

 

“No,” Bucky replies, but he's honestly not too sure. He knows Maddie's mum, Barb, doesn't really like him. He wouldn't be surprised if she's using this distance to get Maddie to move on.

 

“I can't wait to see her,” Becca says. “We're gonna have so much fun.”

 

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky grins. Becca loves Maddie. That's all that matters here.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve answers the door with a glass of water in one hand and a tired smile.

 

“Hey,” Bucky says, unable to stop himself from grinning.

 

“It's good to see you,” Steve says, pulling Bucky in and kissing him. “I was just going to pop in the shower. I just got home.”

 

“Am I too early?” Bucky asks, toeing his shoes off at the door  

 

“No! No, not at all. Just been a long day is all,” Steve sighs, draining his glass. “Have you eaten? I was going to order Chinese.”

 

“Not yet. You get in the shower, I'll order us something,” Bucky offers.

 

“Black bean chicken stir fry,” Steve says before disappearing down the hall.

 

“Got it,” Bucky says, and pulls out his phone.

 

Steve's out of the shower before the food arrives and he's soft and warm under Bucky's hands on the couch.

 

“Let's get this off,” Bucky breathes, detaching himself from Steve's mouth to pull his shirt over his head.

 

“Hang on-” Steve says, but it's too late and his shirt is balled up in Bucky's hand.

 

“What's this?” Bucky asks, dropping the shirt to the floor and lightly tracing his fingers over a purple bruise on Steve's ribs. Steve sighs.

 

“I got in a fight,” he mutters, flinging an arm over his eyes.

 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky laughs, wiggling himself back on Steve's hips. “What happened?”

 

“I told a friend's ex to leave her and her kids alone. He kicked me.”

 

“That's an impressive bruise for a kick,” Bucky says, running his tongue over it. Steve shivers slightly, hands gripping Bucky's shoulders.

 

“He's tall,” Steve says.

 

“You're tall,” Bucky points out.

 

“He's tall _er_. It just sort of… happened.”

 

“What did you do?” Bucky asks, sitting back up so he can see Steve.

 

“Nothing. His kids were there.”

 

“Guy kicks you pretty fucking hard in the ribs and you do nothing,” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow. Sure, he doesn't know Steve, but he also distinctly remembers the night they met when they were both shitfaced drunk and yelling at creepers at the bar.

 

Steve was pretty quick to fight there.

 

“I did nothing in front of the kids. Out the back I think I broke his nose. He deserved it though.”

 

“I'm sort of really impressed with his kick,” Bucky admits, admiring the bruise again. “That's decent, man.”

 

“Bucky, I thought you were on _my_ side!” Steve groans.

 

“I am on your side!” Bucky laughs. There's a knock on the door and he moves to get off Steve. “But that doesn't mean it's not an achievement.”

 

“I hate you,” Steve grumbles. Bucky flips him off and goes to answer the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve's lying half on top of Bucky, and he's a little bit too hot but the weight of him on Bucky's back is surprisingly comforting and Bucky is so close to sleep when Steve moves. It's not just a slight shift either, the bastard actually gets completely out of bed.

 

“The fuck, man?” Bucky groans sleepily.

 

“Sorry,” Steve whispers. “I just need a glass of water. You want one?”

 

“No. Hurry up.”

 

Steve comes back a minute later and Bucky doesn't bother opening his eyes. Steve moved the duvet when he got up and Bucky's back is left open to the cool air. He's getting cold.

 

“Spoon me,” he says, voice groggy with sleep.

 

“Hold your horses,” Steve huffs.

 

“Hold _your_ horses,” Bucky retorts lamely. He's too tired to think of a decent comeback. “Why do you drink so much water?”

 

“Water is good. I get dehydrated easily,” Steve says, almost defensively. Bucky sighs, still not moving from his cold position.  

 

“Spoon me,” he says again. “I'm cold.”

 

Steve obliges this time, his warm chest pressed tightly to Bucky's back, arm draped over his back. Bucky smiles to himself, wiggling back even though there isn't enough room to do so.

 

“Comfy?” Steve asks, sounding amused. Bucky hums in confirmation and drifts to sleep before he overheats.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky's too hot when he wakes up but he's so comfortable and Steve's still wrapped around him so he can't even bring himself to care.

 

He can feel the steady rise and fall of Steve's chest as he breathes and Bucky takes comfort in the rhythm.

 

“How do you not need to pee?” Bucky asks, voice quiet and raspy as it breaks the silence. Steve's still asleep and doesn't reply other than nuzzling into Bucky's neck. It feels good. Bucky laces their fingers together and lets himself enjoy it.

 

The light in the room changes and the alarm clock reads 4:27, but Bucky knows it's broken and skips at random times so he doesn't trust it. Eventually, Steve starts to stir.

 

“I really need to pee,” he says, rolling over and taking Bucky's warmth with him.

 

“That's what you get for constantly drinking water,” Bucky tells him, rolling over too so he can watch Steve fumble out the bedroom door.

 

“At least my skin is flawless,” Steve calls out from the hallway.

 

“Amen to that,” Bucky agrees to himself, closing his eyes again. He can hear Steve peeing down the house, the the toilet flush and the pipes working. Thin walls.

 

“What are you doing today?” Steve asks when he comes back into the room. The mattress dips when he crawls onto it, hovering over Bucky.

 

“Not much,” Bucky says. He'll probably chill with Clint, he's not picking Becca up til tomorrow. “How about you?”

 

“You, hopefully,” Steve says with a lopsided grin. Bucky groans and shoves him over.

 

“You're the worst,” he says. Steve laughs and pulls himself back up.

 

“Okay,” he says. “But I don't have any other plans.”

 

“With lines like that I'm hardly surprised,” Bucky sighs, but pulls Steve in for a kiss.

 

“I'm charming,” Steve protests.

 

“You're really not,” Bucky tells him gently. “You're a mess.”

 

“Hot mess,” Steve retorts. Bucky can't deal with him.

 

“I can't deal with you,” he says.

 

“That's not what you were saying last night,” Steve grins.

 

“You sound like a fifteen year old boy, Steve. I'm not going to have sex with someone who sounds like a fifteen year old boy.

 

“Okay okay!” Steve laughs. “I'll stop.”

 

“Good,” Bucky grins.

 

“...For now.”

 

Bucky whacks him up the head with a pillow.

 

* * *

 

 

They stop by Pac’s on the way to Bucky's and he'd honestly forgotten how good their coffee is.

 

“How do they make it this good?” Bucky asks, leaning on Steve as they sit on the wall. They would be inside in a booth but the sun is nice on his skin and he likes the fresh air. “I don't even like soy milk, but this somehow is better than regular coffee.”

 

“I feel like I'm forgetting something,” Steve says. Bucky shrugs and takes another sip of his beautiful perfect coffee.

 

“It'll come to you.”

 

“Hm,” Steve says, frowning slightly. It's not until they've finished their coffees and are about to hop on Steve's bike that he remembers.

 

“You drove to my house!” He says, spinning to face Bucky.

 

“Aw, shit.” Because now they're halfway to Bucky's on Steve's bike, but his car is still parked outside Steve's house. “How did I forget that?”

 

“Good one,” Steve snorts. “Come on, let's go get it.”

 

\---

 

“I feel like a fool,” Bucky groans when they get to Steve's. “Not my proudest moment.”

 

“You're lucky you've got the beauty,” Steve laughs. “Because you sure as hell don't have the brains.”

 

“First of all, fuck you,” Bucky scowls as he unlocks his car. “Second of all, thanks for the coffee.”

 

“You're welcome,” Steve says, leaning down to rest his forearms on Bucky's wound-down window.

 

“I'll see you next time?” Bucky asks, starting up his car. Steve grins and leans in to kiss him before standing up and moving away.

 

“You bet,” he says. “Drive safe.”

 

* * *

 

 

“No,” Clint says, his words slurring slightly. “I'm not tryna tell you cats _suck._  I'm just sayin' Cat Cops would be a fuckin' _shit_ idea for a tv show!”

 

“But imagine! Little cats in vests on leads saving the day!” Bucky grins. He's not as drunk as Clint, and he actually agrees that cats would make shitty cops, but he's having too much fun with this conversation.

 

“What if they were chasing someone and the person goes into water, huh?” Clint asks, dropping his feet onto the coffee table. “Cats can't swim.”

 

“Some can!” Bucky protests. “Some cats can! Some cats love swimming. Your argument is invalid.”

 

“Dogs just make better cops!” Clint whines. “You're wrong! You're wrong!”

 

“No, cats-”

 

“Shh! It's back on!” Clint hisses, and they both fall quiet again as the show starts back up.

 

They watch in silence, which is something Clint can only do when he's drunk. Usually he can't shut up when watching something.  

 

“Hey, Bucky,” he says when the ads start up again.

 

“Yeah man?”

 

“Where were you last night?”

 

“How do you know i wasn't here?” Bucky asks, rolling his head round on the back of the couch. Clint grins at him.

 

“You had an _adult sleepover_ ,” he laughs.

 

“Jesus,” Bucky groans. “Why do I put up with you?”

 

“Was it Tall, Blond, and Beautiful from the other night?” Clint continues, ignoring Bucky's protests.

 

“Maybe,” Bucky mutters.

 

“So that's twice now, huh?” Clint asks, absolutely beaming.

 

“Three times,” Bucky says quietly. He's hoping Clint won't pick it up, but he's not in luck.

 

“ _Three_ times! Wow, Barnes, when's the wedding?”

 

“I fucking hate you, Barton,” Bucky groans, shoving his palms into his eyes and rubbing them.

 

“I'm just saying! You only ever so one night stands. Emphasis on the _one_.”

 

“I can switch it up if I want to,” Bucky says defensively. Dog Cops has started again but Clint doesn't seem to care. “And anyway, we're just sleeping together. Nothing more.”

 

“Sure you are,” Clint grins.

 

“Shut up and watch your damn show.”

 

* * *

 

 

“How was Maddie?” Bucky asks when he picks Becca up on Sunday. She's got Pooh in her hand but Bucky carries her bag to the car for her.

 

“She's good, but she got bored of playing puppies after a while,” Becca sighs, climbing into the back seat.

 

“Maybe that's a good thing,” Bucky suggests carefully. “You know, having a variety of games.”

 

Becca shrugs in the rear view mirror and Bucky sighs.

 

“Did you have fun, baby?” He asks.

 

“Yeah. I missed you though.”

 

“I missed you too,” Bucky says, smiling at her reflection. She smiles back at him and wiggles Pooh's arm so it looks like he's waving.

 

“When can Wanda come over for a playdate?” She asks after a few songs on the radio.

 

“Maybe next weekend. I'll give her mum a call this week, if you'd like?”

 

“Yes please,” Becca says.

 

* * *

 

 

”What are you doing here?” Bucky asks when Kate waltzes through their front door as if she owns the place.

 

“Hello to you too, Bucky,” she snaps with no real heat. Becca laughs.

 

“Katie!” She grins, launching herself at the poor girl.

 

“Hey Bex! Did'ya miss me?” Kate laughs, scooping Becca in her arms and holding her upside down.

 

“Yeah! Are you staying for dinner?”

 

“I sure am!” Kate grins, winking at Bucky. Bucky groans.

 

“Freeloader,” he mutters, just loud enough for Kate to hear.

 

“Clint's out and I can't be bothered cooking,” Kate explains as the three of them settle around the table. It's just tomato pasta because Bucky couldn't be bothered cooking, either, but Kate seems to appreciate it.

 

“What's Clint doing?” Bucky asks. Kate's eyes light up and she grins mischievously.

 

“He's got a _date_ ,” she whispers.

 

“Ha!” Bucky laughs. “And to think that idiot was teasing me last night!”

 

“What happened last night?” Kate asks instantly. Bucky shoots a look at Becca (who's obliviously slurping her pasta like the dogs from the Lady and the Tramp).

 

Kate follows his gaze and nods when she realises what he means. “Right,” she says.

 

“Hey Kate, how often do you want me to cook for you?” Bucky asks, changing the subject before Becca decides she wants to join.

 

“How often are you offering?” Kate asks, flicking her hair off her face.

 

“Whenever you pick Becca up from OSCAR. Just send me a text so I know, but you can have dinner with us on those nights,” Bucky suggests. He'd let her eat with them every night regardless, but he knows Kate likes to work for herself and he would benefit from not having to rush to get Becca before OSCAR closes.

 

“You got yourself a deal!” Kate says, nudging Becca. “You and I are going to have so much fun, Bex!”

 

* * *

 

Wanda comes over at midday the next Saturday, and Bucky's stocked up on strawberry yoghurt but Lucky's still with Clint. They'll just have to make do with Becca's toys, but Bucky hardly doubts that will be an issue.

 

The doorbell goes and Becca flies up to get it before Bucky can even move from his spot.

 

“Hey, Wanda,” Bucky says as she races past with Becca. He's met her in passing, when she's still at OSCAR when he comes to pick Becca up, but he doesn't really know her.

 

“Hello Bucky,” she says, but is gone in an instant. Bucky keeps walking to the door.

 

“You have my number if you need me,” Mrs Maximoff says. Her voice is soft and her hands are big. Bucky watches as she fiddles with the zipper on her purse.

 

“I'm sure we'll be fine, but I won't hesitate to call you if I need to,” Bucky promises, putting on his best Adult voice. Mrs Maximoff nods, smiling slightly.

 

“Thank you, James. I'll be by in a couple of hours to pick her up.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nothing goes wrong. It's not that Bucky was expecting it to, but this is Becca's first playdate with someone new since their parents died and dealing with one kid is hard enough without balancing a new kid in the mix.

 

He leaves them to it for the most part, their giggles and barks drifting through the house as they play Puppies.

 

“Girls!” He calls when they've grown quiet. “Want some lunch?”

 

They don't reply so he makes his way down the hall and pops his head into Becca's room.

 

They've ripped the sheets off Becca's bed, draping them over her dresser and tucking them into drawers until they've made a shoddy looking fort.

 

“What's this?” Bucky asks softly, bending down to poke his head in. Becca's toadstool lamp in on, letting off a pink glow in the fort. Wanda's on the ground with some paper and a pencil, and Becca's draped over her back with a picture book.

 

“Woof,” Becca says glancing up at him  returning to her pictures.

 

“Woof,” Bucky says back. “You alright  Wanda? Becca's not squishing you?”

 

“She likes it,” Becca says, flicking the page. Wanda nods.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Want some food, puppies?” Bucky asks. They both look up at that and grin.

 

“We have yoghurt,” Becca says, rolling off her friend and slipping past Bucky. Wanda scrambles up and follows Becca out.

 

“Is it strawberry?” She asks.

 

Bucky gets their yoghurt out for them to eat while he scrambles some eggs. They talk about dogs while they eat, and Bucky tunes most of it out because he cares, but he doesn't care _that_ much.

 

Wanda's mum comes to collect her not long after they've eaten, and she had a good time but she's ready to go home.

 

“Thank you for having me!” Wanda says, racing off to sit in the car. Becca disappears back to her room and Bucky's left with Mrs Maximoff on the steps.

 

“Thank you,” she says. “Wanda’s very fond of your Becca.”

 

“It was my pleasure. I think they both had a great afternoon,” Bucky tells her.

 

“How would you feel about Becca spending a night with us? Maybe next weekend?” Mrs Maximoff offers.

 

“I'll talk to Becca about it, but I'm sure she'd love it,” Bucky grins.

 

“We'll keep in touch,” she says, and Bucky watches the car disappear down the street.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky sleeps in the fort with Becca that night, because she doesn't want to take it down and it's actually pretty cute in there.

 

“You have to read me a story otherwise you can't stay in here,” she tells him after dinner, when they're settled in their sleeping bags.

 

“Right,” Bucky says, flicking through her collection. “Which book do you want?”

 

“Um,” Becca hums, flipping through her pile until she finds the one she's after. “This one!”

 

Bucky takes it from her and opens it to the first page.

 

“Plop, the owl who was afraid of the dark,” he says, and Becca tucks herself into his side while he reads in the pink glow of her lamp. She flops over somewhere in the middle, but Bucky keeps reading until it's finished just in case she's still awake but too tired to let him know.

 

“Goodnight, Becca,” he whispers once it's over. She's definitely asleep now so Bucky puts the book away and shuffles down in his own sleeping bag.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky wakes up with a sore back and a foot in his ribs.

 

“Becca,” he grumbles, shoving her out of the way. She doesn't wake up, just mumbles something and snuggles back in on herself.

 

Bucky's too uncomfortable to consider going back to sleep so he crawls out of the fort and goes to make pancakes.

 

Becca wanders in when he's finishing up, eyes lighting at the sight of breakfast other than toast and cereal.

 

“Pancaaaakes!” She sings gleefully, grabbing two plates and cutlery.

 

“Mornin, sunshine,” Bucky says, sliding into a seat. “How did you sleep?”

 

“Good!” Becca says, sliding a pancake from the pile onto her plate and absolutely drowning it in syrup. “How about you?”

 

“My back might be broken,” Bucky grins as he grabs his own pancake. “I'm not young anymore.”

 

“Yeah, you're old,” Becca agrees.

 

“Don't make me revoke your pancake rights,” Bucky threatens, waving his fork at her.

 

“I love you Bucky!” She grins, hiding her face behind her arms.  

 

“I love you too,” Bucky grumbles, as if he didn't want to admit it. “Oh, Wanda wants to know of you'd like to have a sleepover next weekend?”

 

“Yes!” Becca gasps. “Yes please, yes please!”

 

“Okay,” Bucky laughs. “I'll talk to her mum and we'll see what we can do.”

 

* * *

 

 

 **Bucky:** Free next Saturday?

 

 **Steve:** Hopefully not anymore

 

 **Bucky:** Haha real smooth. Come round after dinner

 

 **Steve:** See you then

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey man,” Clint says when Bucky picks up his call on Monday. “I'm gonna pick Becca up from school and we're going to get ice creams with Lucky.”

 

“Okay,” Bucky says, rearranging the files on his screen until they're in an order he likes. “She's in room 8. I'll call the after school care.”

 

“Cool, bro,” Clint says as he drops something on his end of the line. Bucky snorts.

 

“See you tonight,” He laughs. Clint doesn't bother replying before hanging up.

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm hooking up with Becca's teacher!” Clint hisses in Bucky's ear when he gets home that night. Bucky suddenly remembers the redhead at the bar and avoids Clint's gaze.

 

“How did that happen?” He asks instead, loosening his tie and toeing his shoes off. He can hear Becca in the other room, playing with Lucky and giggling.

 

“We got together the other night and have met up a few times since then, but we didn't know.”

 

“Small world,” Bucky grins. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

“Nothing,” Clint shrugs. “We talked. It's, like, whatever. We're gonna keep dating.”

 

“Good for you, bro,” Bucky says, clapping him on the shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know my number,” Bucky says as he drops Becca off at Wanda's for the night. “No matter what time it is, if you need me I will come and get you.”

 

“I know, I know,” Becca says impatiently,  desperate to get inside.

 

“I love you, Becca,” he says, pulling her in for a hug and kissing her forehead.

 

“I love you too, Bucky. See you tomorrow!”

 

And she's off, disappearing around the corner. Mrs Maximoff smiles at him.

 

“I'll call you if she needs you,” she promises.

 

“Thank you. I hope she's well behaved.”

 

“She's a sweetheart. I'm sure we'll be fine,” Mrs Maximoff assures him. Bucky smiles one last time before heading back to his car.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s half-naked on Bucky’s couch, looking all glorious in the late afternoon sunlight. Bucky leans forwards, straddling his lap to suck a bruise to his neck. Steve’s hand comes up to tangle in Bucky’s hair, and he lets out a breathy moan that does all sorts of things to Bucky.

 

“Yeah, baby,” Steve whispers, voice caught in his throat. Bucky hears him, but the words register in his own voice, speaking softly to Becca. He pushes himself off Steve as if he’d been burnt.

 

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t call me baby.”

 

Steve’s brows pull in close, but he doesn’t question it. “Okay,” he says, nodding and moving to sit up. “Okay, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

 

“It’s alright,” Bucky assures him, flashing a smile so Steve knows it really is okay. “Just a massive mood-killer, is all.”

 

Steve rotates around so Bucky’s no longer in his lap and reaches for his shirt.

 

“I get it,” he says, but Bucky swats the shirt out of his hand. He wants to explain to Steve that it’s nothing _bad_ , but he doesn’t want to bring up the fact he’s a legal guardian of an 8-year-old. Not if he doesn’t have to.  

 

“You can leave the shirt off,” he says instead, settling in to Steve’s side. Steve’s arm is around him instantly, and Bucky can feel himself relaxing.

 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Steve asks, grabbing the remote from the arm of the couch and switching on the tv.

 

“Edge of the Universe?” Bucky suggests, because he’s been meaning to watch it for awhile now, and Steve likes documentaries too. Steve puts it on and settles back down until Bucky’s 90% on top of him. Bucky smiles to himself and focuses on the tv.

 

* * *

 

“I have a kid,” Bucky says, and _wow_ he needs to work on his pillow talk. “In my life,” he adds, but it’s stilted and comes out all awkward.

 

“Huh,” Steve says, rolling over so they’re facing each other. They’re close enough for Bucky to feel Steve’s breath on his face as he breathes. “Didn’t peg you as a dad.”

 

“I’m not her dad,” Bucky says, but he doesn’t expand. He doesn’t want to get into the details of his parents dying and him taking care of his sister on his own. That’s not pillow-talk material. That’s got nothing to do with Steve.

 

“Kids are great,” Steve says, changing the subject enough to relieve Bucky. “I work with kids.”

 

Bucky’s first thought at that is of Becca’s Steve from OSCAR, but he dismisses that thought immediately. Apart from Peggy, everyone there is in their teens, or twenty at the oldest.

 

There are lots of jobs in child care.

 

Steve’s a common name. Bucky knows another Steve their age. They’re not the same Steve.

 

“I didn’t know that,” Bucky says instead. Steve shrugs.

 

“What do you do?” He asks, shifting under the covers. Bucky can’t see what he’s doing, so he almost jumps when Steve’s hand brushes his hip, soft and warm.

 

“I work in IT. Boring, but it pays the bills.” Bucky says, resting his hand on top of Steve’s so he doesn’t pull away.  

 

“Sounds like a decent gig,” Steve says, mouth opening wide into a yawn. Bucky rolls over and pushes his back into Steve’s chest.

 

“Go to sleep,” he says quietly, and Steve’s arm tightens around Bucky’s middle.

 

“Sleep tight,” he murmurs, and falls silent.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes up to the smell of coffee and a cold bed, and he sort of hates that Steve is a morning person, but sort of loves it too. He rolls out of bed, pulling on a clean pair of boxers as he goes, and makes his way to the kitchen to join Steve.

 

“Morning.” he yawns, purposely walking into Steve. Steve huffs in amusement and pours a coffee for Bucky,

 

“You bought soy milk,” Steve says, smirking slightly as he slides the carton along the bench. Bucky slides it right back with a pretentious sniff.

 

“Pass me the regular stuff. Soy milk tastes weird,” Bucky groans. He’s still _asleep_ , damn it.

 

“If you don’t like soy milk, then why did you buy it?” Steve asks with a smirk that tells Bucky he knows exactly why he bought it.

 

“Screw you,” Bucky laughs, snatching the normal milk from Steve’s hands and pouring some into his coffee.

 

“You bought it just for me, didn’t you-” Steve hesitates, just slightly, but it’s enough for Bucky to pick up on. “-Sweetheart.”

 

Sweetheart. That’s a new one. Steve hasn’t really been big on the pet names and hearing such a lovey one coming from his mouth is weird.

 

“Sweetheart?” Bucky says, but as soon as he does he realises why Steve said it. “Is that the new _baby_?”

 

“Do you not like it?” Steve asks, flushing bright red. It makes Bucky smile, and he takes a step closer so he can kiss Steve.

 

“It’s a little bit weird,” he admits when he pulls back. “But at least it isn’t what I call my kid-”

 

He’s about to say sister, but Steve cuts him off with an embarrassed groan.

 

“You call her baby,” he says. “No wonder that’s such a turn-off. Jesus, Buck. I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, you didn’t know. It doesn’t matter,” Bucky shrugs, taking a sip from his coffee. It’s starting to cool down, he should probably drink it a bit faster.

 

“It won’t happen again,” Steve promises.

 

“I should hope not,” Bucky grins, slapping Steve on the ass as he moves to the table.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve leaves ten minutes before Bucky needs to go and pick up Becca. She's happy and excited to see him, babbling on about the games they played and the movie they watched.

 

“Wanda cried but so did I but it was happy at the end because no one died and they were all together.”

 

“I'm glad,” Bucky laughs as he pulls into their driveway. “What movie was it?”

 

“I forgot,” Becca shrugs, hopping out of the car with her Pooh Bear in her hand. “I'm glad mum and dad didn't have a dog.”

 

“Why's that? You want a dog,” Bucky asks. He grabs Becca's bag from the boot and slings it over his shoulder.

 

“If they had a dog it would miss them and it would miss me and maybe it would run away from home to find us, but we're so far away from their house that it would get lost,” Becca explains, her tone indicating Bucky should've thought this through already.

 

“We're not that far from your old place. Only about an hour. Maybe an hour and a half. And anyway, if you had a dog, we wouldn't just leave it, Becs. It would live here too.”

 

“Does that mean we can get a dog now?” She asks, trailing behind Bucky as he rifles through cupboards looking for something to make for lunch.

 

“It wouldn't be fair on the dog, baby. I work full time and you have school. We've still got Lucky, though,” Bucky says, moving to the fridge. “Toasties sound good for lunch?”

 

“I guess,” she sighs, flopping down at the counter. “Can I have spaghetti in mine?”

 

* * *

 

The sound of the toilet flushing, followed by dragging footsteps pulls Bucky from sleep on Tuesday night. He wasn’t actually there yet, but he was close enough to feel grumpy about it. Until he hears the sniffles.

 

Becca’s crying. Bucky’s up and out of bed in an instant, lightly knocking on her door.

 

“Becca?” He calls softly, nudging it open. She’s sitting up on her bed, Pooh Bear in one hand and her other thumb in her mouth. “Come sleep in my bed.”

 

“I can’t sleep,” she says, voice bordering on a whimper. Bucky holds out his hand.

 

“I can read to you, if you’d like. Or you can read to me.”

 

“I’m not very good,” Becca reminds him, but she hops out of bed and slips her hand into his. It’s kinda sticky from her sucking her thumb, but Bucky’s gotten past that years ago.

 

“You’re improving so much, baby,” Bucky tells her. “I’m so proud of _you_.”

 

“I think I like reading,” she admits as she climbs into the undisturbed side of Bucky’s bed. Bucky smiles at her, relief flooding through him. Reading’s always been hard for her, but since Natasha recommended the Diary Of A Wimpy Kid books, and a bunch of other dyslexia-friendly books, her confidence has grown.

 

“Read me a chapter, then,” Bucky says, crawling under the covers and switching on the bedside lamp. Becca finds her place in the book and starts to read.

 

* * *

 

They’re still reading when Bucky's alarm goes off. It was about 2am when Becca came into Bucky’s bed, but now it’s 6am and neither of them have had any sleep.

 

“We’re taking the day off,” Bucky decides then and there, turning his alarm off and sitting up. “Let’s go get breakfast then get some sleep.”

 

“What about school? Becca asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Bucky shrugs.

 

“We can play some maths games and read another chapter if you want. But you need a nap first and one day off school won’t harm you.”

 

* * *

 

They go to Pac’s, and Bucky knows there’s something at the back of his mind that wants to see Steve. He also knows that he does not want to see Steve, because Becca doesn’t know him and he’s not so sure he wants them to meet. He and Steve aren’t dating. There’s no need to introduce fuck buddies to his baby sister.

 

“Does that say _vegan_?” Becca asks as they climb out of Bucky’s car.

 

“Yep,” Bucky replies, popping the “p”.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means no happiness,” Bucky replies on instinct, then looks back at his sister. She shoots him a confused look.

 

“I’m joking. It means no meat or animal products. That’s like milk and cheese and eggs,” Bucky explains. He opens the door and follows her inside.

 

“Why don’t we go to a normal cafe?” Becca asks with a scrunched-up nose. Bucky laughs and nudges her with his elbow.

 

“Because these guys do the best coffee in the world.”

 

“Gross,” Becca pouts. Bucky’s about to reply, but a familiar set of broad shoulders catch his eyes, blond head bent over the counter.

 

 _Steve_. Bucky finds himself grinning and clears his throat to call out. Except, Becca beats him to it.

 

Somehow.

 

“Steve!” She shouts, jumping to her feet and charging at him. Bucky freezes in his seat, because this can’t be happening. She can’t know Steve. How the fuck does she know him?

 

“Hi, Becca!” Steve says, voice all warm and sweet and comforting. Something pulls in Bucky’s stomach and he can’t tear his gaze from Steve’s face. Steve hasn’t seen him yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

 

“What are you doing up so early?” Steve asks, giving Becca a series of hi-fives.

 

“Me and Bucky are getting breakfast then going home. I won’t be at OSCAR today.”

 

Bucky can see the exact moment Steve realises. Because Bucky is not a common name, and Steve knows Bucky has a kid in his life.  Bucky feels his cheeks colour, and he still can’t tear his eyes from Steve’s face across the room.

 

“Bucky?” Steve says, and his eyes meet Bucky’s.

 

“My brother,” Becca supplies helpfully, blissfully unaware of the situation.

 

This was a stupid idea. Bucky never should’ve taken Becca here, they should’ve stuck to somewhere safe, with milk and butter and cheese and yoghurt-

 

Bucky shouldn’t have chanced it, not before finding out crucial information about Steve’s job, like that he looks after Bucky’s sister five days a week.

 

Bucky should’ve-

 

Bucky’s pulled from his downward spiral by the barista’s voice, calling out Steve’s name and order.

 

“I’ve gotta run, Becca,” Steve says apologetically, grabbing his order over the counter. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Enjoy your day off.”

 

“Bye Steve!” Becca calls, coming back over to sit with Bucky.

 

“He’s my favourite,” she tells him, handing her menu over so he can read the options out to her.

 

“That’s nice, baby,” Bucky says weakly.

 

* * *

 

They spend the day at home after that. Becca reads Bucky another chapter and they prepare their lunches for tomorrow and they nap in their own beds, and Bucky does _not_ think of Steve.

 

He's not mad at Steve. Steve's done nothing wrong. No one's done anything wrong, but Bucky lies awake that night at stares at the ceiling wondering what the hell he's gonna do about it now.

 

The sensible thing to do would be call it off right now. They're nothing, there's nothing there besides sexual chemistry and it'd be too messy to try continue anything. He's never seen Steve at the school before, so it's not likely he'll see him there again. Easy. Simple.

 

Bucky groans and rolls over. He doesn't _want_ to cut Steve from his life, and as much as he tries to lie to himself, Bucky knows he actually likes the guy.

 

This is a mess. Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky doesn't do something about it soon it will become a mess, and potentially a mess involving Becca. Bucky can't have that. He and Steve need to talk.

 

* * *

 

“Bucky!” Steve says the next afternoon when Bucky walks through the door. He jumps up from behind the desk and makes his way over.

 

“Is this really the right place to do this?” Bucky hisses through his teeth, glancing around the room. Sharon’s helping the kids make mobiles out of rubbish at the craft table, and looks up at them. She has an odd expression, a mixture of discomfort and worry.

 

“It’s about Becca,” Steve says, and Bucky’s attention snaps back to him.

 

“What about her? Is she okay? Why didn’t you call me?” He demands, allowing Steve to pull him out the door.

 

“She’s okay,” Steve promises, leading Bucky around the back of the building. “She ran off with some scissors and cut her hair. No one saw her do it, and I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want you to get a fright.”

 

“Oh thank God,” Bucky laughs with relief. It could've been something so much worse. “Where is she?”

 

Steve’s still leading them around the back, past the compost bins and to the little vegie garden. This is all new to Bucky, he didn’t know this place existed. Surely it’s out of bounds, no one can see them back here.

 

“She’s just calming down. Wanted some space.”

 

They round the next corner, and Bucky can see her with her scuffed red converse and head buried in her arms. She’s sobbing, and can’t hear them coming so Bucky turns back to Steve.

 

“Thanks, Steve. I’ve got it from here,” he says. Steve looks him over for a moment, eyes tracing every corner of Bucky’s face before flicking to his lips. He looks like he’s going to kiss him, but doesn’t. Just nods briefly before turning away. Bucky can’t tell if he’s pissed Steve would consider something like that with Becca _right there_ , or disappointed he didn’t go through with it.

 

Bucky makes his way over to Becca and settles down in the grass next to her, back against the chain link fence and leg pressed up along hers. She jolts at the contact and looks up at him with wide eyes. With her head up and out of her arms, Bucky can see the full extent of her haircut. It’s jagged and uneven, but asides from that it actually looks quite cute on her. It’s short, only a few inches long around her face, but longer and patchier the further around her head it goes.

 

“Baby. Come here,” he says, opening his arms. Becca doesn’t even hesitate, just crawls into his lap and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his collarbone. He rubs her back and sings to her, but the only song he can think of is the Finger Family. It’s been stuck in his head all day, so he hums it to her and he rocks her in his lap.

 

She doesn’t notice for a minute, but when she does she pulls back and squints at him. “Is that the Finger Family?”

 

“Sister finger, sister finger, where are you?” Bucky sings in answer.

 

“Here I am, here I am, how do you do?” Becca continues softly. She lays her head on his chest and sighs.

 

“Wanna stop at the barber’s on the way home?” Bucky offers, running a hand through her short hair. “Or I could fix it up at Clint’s. He’s got a hair razor.”

 

“You’re not mad?” Becca asks in a small voice.

 

“Course not. If it was my hair I would be. But if you want short hair, you can have short hair.” Bucky lifts Becca out of his lap and stands up. “Let’s go home.”

 

“Can Kate fix my hair?” Becca asks, taking Bucky’s hand.

 

“I’ll text Clint, see if she’s home,” Bucky promises.

 

“Good. She’s good at hair stuff. Better than you.”

 

“Hey!” Bucky whines. “At least I try.”

 

“Becca?” Someone else calls, and Bucky looks at his sister. Her eyes are wide, and still red from crying, and she looks at Bucky with such fear.

 

“I don’t want anyone to see me,” she whispers, eyes tearing up again.

 

“Becca?” The voice calls again, and Wanda pops around the corner. “I’m going home now but Steve told me to bring you your bag.”

 

“Thanks, Wanda,” Bucky says gently. Becca doesn’t say anything, but she’s no longer on the verge of tears.

 

“You can borrow my hoodie,” Wanda offers, unzipping in and sliding it onto Becca’s shoulders. “Put the hood up if you don’t want anyone to see.”

 

Bucky could hug this little girl. Instead he takes Becca’s bag from her hands and slings it over his back.

 

“Thank you,”: Becca says, furiously wiping at her eyes.

 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Wanda says, and she’s off.

 

“I like that kid,” Bucky tells his sister as they head to the car.  Becca smiles from under her hood.

 

“Me too.”

 

* * *

 

“Look at you!” Kate grins when they arrive at Clint’s. She holds her arms open so Becca can give her a hug. “I’m diggin' the length. Maybe not the style, but that's why I'm here, right?”

 

“Will you make me look good?” Becca asks, voice muffled from Kate’s sweatshirt.

 

“You don’t need a good haircut to look good,” Kate promises. “But I’m gonna give you the best haircut ever. Follow me.”

 

Bucky waits until the girls are in the bathroom before he turns to Clint.

 

“She’s not doing well,” he sighs. Clint slides a beer across the counter and leans forwards on his arms.

 

“None of that’s your fault, man,” he says.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Barnes-”

 

“Clint. You of all people should know I can’t help feel responsible, even though I know I’m doing the best I can,” Bucky snaps. Clint doesn’t say anything, just leans down to pet Lucky.

 

“How’s it going with Tall, Blond, and Handsome?” Clint asks, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

 

“Don’t fuckin’ remind me,” Bucky groans. “Why does he have to be Becca’s favourite human?”

 

“Kate’s her favourite human,” Clint scoffs.

 

“Whatever. If he was just some guy it wouldn’t matter, you know? But if this all turns to shit it will affect her, and she’s got too much going on right now. I don’t want her to lose Steve, too.”

 

“Why are you so dramatic?” Clint groans.

 

“It comes with the territory of being gay,” Bucky grins.

 

“Bull,” Clint laughs.

 

“Hey, on the topic of relationships,” Bucky starts. He leaves the sentence hanging.

 

“She’s beautiful and I’m in love,” Clint sighs. It’s not a dreamy sigh, it’s more of a I’m-so-screwed kind of sigh. Bucky flicks the elastic from his wrist at him.

 

“You could always pick Becca up from her class, you know. Or even pretend you don’t know where the OSCAR Den is and ask her where it is. I bet she’d help you.”

 

“You’re the worst.” Clint says, turning his back on Bucky so he doesn’t have to see him waggling his eyebrows.

 

“Bucky, look!” Becca suddenly calls out, coming into the room with Kate trailing behind her.

 

“My God,” Bucky grins. Her hair is _short_. Shorter than Bucky’s has ever been, with lightning zigzags buzzed into the sides.”This is amazing. Come here so I can feel it.”

 

Becca happily comes over to him, and Bucky runs his fingers over her stubbly head. It’s so soft, and she’s so happy with it.

 

“Thank you, Kate,” Bucky says as Becca climbs all over him. Kate tosses off a salute and sits down on the stool next to him.

 

“It was a great time, right Bex?” She says. Becca nods.

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Katie.”  

 

“ _Katie_ ,” Clint mouths at Bucky, still bitter that she can get away with it but he can’t. Bucky rolls his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 **Bucky** : We should talk. Becca's away this weekend, I'll pick you up Friday night on way home?

 

 **Steve** : we should talk or we should Talk?

 

 **Bucky** : Talk, communicate, that thing that adults do

 

 **Steve** : cool see you tomorrow

 

* * *

 

“Did you remember Pooh?” Bucky asks suddenly as they pull into the Lester’s driveway.

 

“I’m not a baby. I don’t need to bring my teddy with me to every sleepover,” Becca huffs, pulling her feet off the dash and unclipping her belt.

 

“Really.” Bucky raises an eyebrow at her and she blushes.

 

“He’s in my bag,” she mutters, not meeting his eyes. Bucky laughs and hops out of the car.

 

“Good. He’d get lonely all by himself for a whole weekend.”

 

“Where will you be?” Becca asks suddenly, stopping to look at him.

 

“I’ll be at home,” Bucky says, “but it’s not the same without you.”

 

“Will you get lonely?” Becca asks suddenly, hand on Bucky's arm to stop him from walking away.

 

“I've got Clint and Kate to keep me company,” he promises.

 

“And Lucky?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Make sure you tell him I'll be home on Sunday night to give him cuddles,” Becca demands, ringing the Lesters doorbell.

 

“Of course,” Bucky says again as the door swings open to reveal Maddie squealing and reaching for Becca.

 

“I'll pick you up on Sunday!” Bucky reminds her, planting a kiss on her forehead before she's tugged inside and the door shuts between them.

 

Time to get Steve.

 

* * *

 

The ride from Steve's to Bucky's isn't awkward, per se, but there's an elephant in the back seat that neither want to approach until they're settled and undistracted.

 

“Would you like a drink?” Bucky offers once they're inside. He pours himself an orange juice- the organic kind with the pulp that Becca hates but he loves- and grabs another glass from the shelf and fills it with water.

 

“Thanks,” Steve says, and his eyes crinkle in the corners when he takes the glass. Bucky returns the smile and settles on the couch.

 

“So. You work with kids.”

 

“So. Your name is James,” Steve fires back, no real heat in his voice as he sits at the opposite end of the couch from Bucky. Their toes brush slightly, but neither man mentions it.

 

“Bucky's not a lie. Everyone calls me Bucky. I just want to clarify that. I'm only James on legal documents and in formal situations,” Bucky explains.

 

“Where's Becca now?” Steve asks, glancing around the house as if Bucky hadn't already mentioned she'd be away.

 

“A friend’s house in the city. She's there 'til Sunday.”

 

“Good thing I packed for a couple of days,” Steve says with a grin, sitting up and leaning slightly over Bucky. Bucky immediately finds himself leaning back into the armrest, accommodating for Steve's movements.

 

“You sly dog,” Bucky laughs, letting Steve kiss him. His mouth is warm and comforting against Bucky's, and they've done this enough now for him to know _exactly_ where to put his hands to turn Bucky into putty.

 

“We haven't finished talking,” Bucky gasps out as Steve migrates along his jaw and to his earlobe.

 

“Rather do this,” Steve says, his hot breath and hot mouth still on Bucky.

 

“Steve,” Bucky protests, except it's not even a protest, just a sigh as he digs his fingers into Steve's hips and tilts his head backwards.

 

“Ba- Bucky,” Steve replies, but Bucky heard it. He sits up suddenly, hand on Steve's chest.

 

“You said it,” he says, and Steve flushes a beautiful shade of red  

 

“No I didn't!” He insists, slipping a hand under Bucky's shirt.

 

“You started to! Nice save, punk, but I still heard it!”

 

“I stopped! I didn't say it!” Steve whines, but he's laughing and golden.

 

“You tried to call me baby, which is not only forbidden but also reminds me of the conversation you tried to sleep your way out of just now-”

 

“Okay,” Steve interrupts, “but I wasn't trying to sleep my way out of anything this time. You're just distracting me.”

 

“Other way around, pal,” Bucky scoffs. Steve's moved back off him now, but their legs are still tangled between them. “This is important to me. Becca's important to me.”

 

“She's a good kid,” Steve says, and it doesn't sound faked or forced. There's warmth in his voice and Bucky's heart clenches because he's become far too attached to this man, and so has Becca. Maybe it's a Barnes thing, maybe it's in his DNA to feel a strong adoration for him.

 

“She loves you. She'd always come home telling me about this Steve guy from OSCAR and how cool he is. I just didn't put it together,” Bucky sighs.

 

“Then what's the problem?” Steve asks softly, his head tilting slightly to the right.

 

“We're not dating. I can't introduce her to my friend with benefits or fuckbuddy or whatever we are,” Bucky groans, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

 

“We could date,” Steve offers. It's nice of him, but a relationship started for someone else never works, and Bucky doesn't want Becca getting involved in a relationship Bucky's not serious about.

 

“Nah,” Bucky says. “And if it didn't work out she'd have to deal with seeing her brother's ex five days a week.”

 

Steve nods thoughtfully, a slight frown across his face. “Let's keep doing what we're doing then, see where it goes. We don't have to tell her, and she doesn't need to know we know each other.”

 

“That's… a good plan,” Bucky concedes, reaching for his glass on the floor. “We'll just see how it goes.”

 

“You don't need a plan for everything,” Steve tells him gently, taking the now empty glass from Bucky’s hands and setting it on the coffee table.

 

“Yeah, but raising a kid isn't exactly something I can just wing. She needs structure, and I have to give it to her,” Bucky huffs. Steve's back on him again, and he half wants to let Steve distract him completely.

 

(The other half of him just wants to go to sleep, start the weekend fresh tomorrow.)

 

“You're allowed to make mistakes, Bucky. Everyone does it, it's part of being human,” Steve tells him, completely settling down on the edge of the couch so Bucky's wedged between him and the cushions.

 

“It was easier to think like that when I was only in charge of my own life.”

 

“How old are you?” Steve asks suddenly, hand cradling the back of Bucky's head. It's intimate and not sexual in a way Bucky's not used to and he shudders slightly at the contact.

 

“24,” he says, letting his eyes close. “How old are you?”

 

“28,” Steve replies. That's about what Bucky would've guessed and he hums in response.

 

“I don't know what your situation is, and it's not really my business, I get it. But you know you can talk to me, right? Just because we're not dating doesn't mean I don't care about you.”

 

And fuck, this is exactly why Bucky _isn't_ dating. He doesn't need someone caring about him. What he needs is to care about Becca and make sure she's got the best life he can give her.

 

He's not ready to be a parent. He's not parent material. His parents should be alive and Becca should be with them and Bucky should be living it up before he hits the bad side of 25. He's not ready.

 

“I didn't ask for any of this,” he sobs, unable to stop himself. Steve's arms are around him in an instant, and Bucky knows he shouldn't let this happen, he should pull himself together while he has company, but then Steve starts to run his hand through Bucky's hair and Bucky can't.

 

“You're okay,” Steve murmurs, lips pressed to Bucky's forehead. “Let it out.”

 

“They died and they left me with her and I don't know what I'm doing,” Bucky hiccups. He scrunches his hand in the fabric of Steve's shirt, tightly pressed between their two chests. Steve doesn't loosen his hold, just rubs patterns into Bucky's back and lets him cry.

 

“They were your parents too. You have every right to be upset.”

 

“I can't be upset,” Bucky laughs. He can hear the bitterness with his own ears but can't bring himself to care. “I have to be there for Becca.”

 

“You gotta be there for yourself, too,” Steve says and he makes it sound so easy.

 

“Becca needs me more than I need me. She comes first, Becca always comes first.”

 

“You can't lock your emotions away to be a better parental figure for her. What kind of message does that send, huh? Seeing her brother raise her, caging his emotions like they're a weakness? You don't want to teach her that it's bad to be soft.” Steve's eyes glow with a blue fire and Bucky swallows around the lump in his throat. He wonders for the first time what kind of hell Steve must've gone through to feel this strongly about fucking bottled emotions.

 

And, because Bucky is not as good a person as everyone seems to believe, he tests it. He meets Steve's burning eyes and says, “We can't all be as perfect as you.”

 

Steve doesn't rise to the bait. His hand clenches at his side and his eyes flicker from Bucky's, but he doesn't fight back.

 

“That's a story for another time,” he says. He still doesn't look at Bucky, doesn't touch him. But he stays, laid out on the couch next to Bucky with their breaths mingling. Bucky's eyes drift closed and he savours it.

 

“What do you know?” Bucky asks after a moment. “About me and Becca.”

 

“Not much,” Steve says carefully. “Peggy knows more than I do, we don't talk much about the kids’ home lives unless they're acting up. When Becca cut her hair Peggy told me she's dealing with her parents’ death, but that's the first I heard of it.”

 

“They died in a car crash and I couldn't afford to live in the city or get a new job so I had to pull her away from everyone she knows and loves. She's had to start over fresh as an orphan with her gay older brother trying to make ends meet. I don't know how to raise a kid. It didn't even cross my mind that she might need therapy until Hill mentioned it. Six months, Steve. I let her spend six months alone trying to deal with all this change and I didn't even _think_ of therapy.”

 

“Bucky, you're only 24. You're allowed to forget things, you're allowed to not be perfect.”

 

“I don't want to fuck her over,” Bucky whispers. Steve presses a soft kiss to the top of his head before pulling back slightly. Bucky opens his eyes a fraction to see Steve looking at him with summer warm eyes.

 

“Kids are strong, Buck. Becca's strong. She's gonna be okay,” Steve promises.

 

“You sure about that?” Bucky asks. He's not sure he believes Steve, but he wants to. (God, he wants to.)

 

“Yes.”

 

Bucky doesn't reply. He just stays where he is, pressed against Steve's warm chest and breathing in his comforting scent. He wants to stay like this forever, reassured by Steve that things will work out. He closes his eyes again and feels his body start to relax.

 

“We should go to bed,” Steve murmurs after a while. Bucky squirms closer, too drowsy to filter his actions.

 

“‘M comfy,” Bucky mumbles. He can feel Steve's gentle laugh shake his whole body and smiles to himself.

 

“You'll be more comfy in bed. C'mon, I'll carry you.” Bucky doesn't even have time to complain before he's in Steve's arms, being whisked away to his bedroom.

 

He thinks back to when he was seven and his parents had taken him out to see Toy Story 2. They didn't get home til late and Bucky didn't want to walk in from the car, so he'd pretended to be asleep. His father had carried him inside and tucked him in, arms big and safe around Bucky's back.

 

Steve's got him now, and he tucks Bucky into bed before sliding in beside him.

 

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers into Bucky's hairline, and Bucky can't get a response out before he's asleep with his back tucked into Steve's chest, two spoons in a drawer.

 

* * *

  
Bucky feels calm when he wakes up. He's warm and comfortable, and he's conscious enough to know it's Saturday, and he's in no rush to get up.

 

It's a good feeling, and he hums to himself as he rolls over in bed, slamming straight into a warm body.

 

“Steve,” he slurs happily, nuzzling his nose into wherever it's connecting to Steve. Steve grunts in response, an arm coming up to pull Bucky closer, and he lets himself drift off for a while longer.

 

Steve's hand moves, and his fingertips start to lightly trace patterns across Bucky's back. He's become used to this feeling, but something's slightly off this time. Not bad, just… different.

 

It takes a couple of minutes for Bucky to put his finger on it, but when he does, a stone of dread sinks into the pit of his stomach and he furrows his brow.

 

He's wearing a tshirt.  He's wearing a tshirt because he and Steve didn't have sex last night. Instead Bucky cried like a damn child and Steve held him until he fell asleep. Steve, his fuck-buddy, who only ever comes over for sex and Bucky couldn't even put out.

 

“You're thinking too loud,” Steve grumbles. His fingers have stopped tracing patterns over Bucky's back, instead they're fanned out and lightly tapping.

 

Bucky ignores Steve's comment, opting instead to start kissing along wherever it is his mouth can reach.

 

That turns out to be his collarbone, and Steve hums in appreciation, rolling onto his back and pulling Bucky on top of him.

 

“How're you feeling?” Steve asks. Which is, like, totally not where Bucky was wanting to go.

 

“I'd be better if you had no shirt on,” Bucky smirks, propping himself up enough to look Steve in the eye. Steve searches Bucky's face. For what, Bucky doesn't know, but Steve doesn't seem to find it because he frowns and gently pushes Bucky off him. Bucky scowls.

 

“What are you doing?” He asks as he cups Steve's jaw and peppers kisses along it.

 

“What are _you_ doing?” Steve counters, pulling Bucky away again.  

 

“I'm _trying_ to make out with you. Maybe suck you off, but you're making it very difficult.” Bucky pouts.

 

“You're not into it,” Steve says with such finality Bucky doesn't know how to respond for a moment.

 

“You are,” Bucky says when he finds his words again. To prove his point, he palms Steve's half-hard dick through his underwear.  

 

“Stop it!” Steve hisses, sitting bolt upright. Bucky honestly has no idea what's going on right now. “I'm not into it if you're not into it. Yeah, I'm hard, but I don't want to do anything right now.”

 

“We didn't do anything last night, either,” Bucky snaps. They should've done something. He doesn't want to waste Steve's time like this.

 

“Because sex isn't what you needed!” Steve shoots back. He doesn't leave, though. Just sinks back down next to Bucky and sighs. “You don't owe me anything, Buck.”

 

“But,” Bucky starts, confused.

 

“But literally nothing.”

 

Slowly, Bucky lays back down and stares at his roof. He's too aware of Steve lying next to him, and doesn't know how to relax himself. And to think, he woke up actually okay with the day for once. Of course he had to fuck it up.

 

“Come here,” Steve says, shifting in the bed. His arm flings out and wraps around Bucky's waist, tugging him closer until his back is flushed against Steve's front.

 

“We're good, right?” Bucky asks tentatively, twining his fingers with Steve's. He feels Steve nod before planting a kiss on Bucky's neck.

 

“Very good,” Steve confirms. Bucky closes his eyes and tries to ignore the little niggling feeling at the back of his mind that he could be more, could be better.

 

* * *

 

Bucky drifts off again, and this time when he wakes up Steve is snoring slightly. Bucky takes a moment to look at him, to just appreciate the view.

 

Steve is gorgeous. His hair has flopped down over his forehead, looking golden in the weak sunlight from Bucky's window. His eyelashes flutter slightly, his lips quirk briefly and Bucky wonders what he's dreaming of.

 

Bucky reaches out with a hand to brush Steve's hair off his eyelids, but pauses. Steve's asleep, and they're not like that. They kiss and they fuck and occasionally they'll cuddle, but there are no affectionate touches, no lingering fingers. He pulls his hand back and climbs out of bed.

 

“Buck?” Steve murmurs, cracking an eye open. Bucky smiles at him, he can't stop himself.

 

“I'm gonna get us some coffee. Maybe some waffles too,” Bucky says, slipping into his jeans. Steve's mouth curls into a smile and his eyes drift shut again.

 

“Pac’s?” He asks, already on the verge of sleep again.

 

“Pac’s,” Bucky confirms, and slips out of the room.

 

Bucky's stopped at a red light when his phone starts vibrating in the passenger seat. He glances at the screen to see _Lester Landline_ flash across. When the lights change, he pulls into the nearest carpark.

 

“Hey Becca.”

 

“Hi Bucky!” Becca’s cheerful voice rings down the line. “How are you?”

 

“I'm good. How are you, what's up?” Bucky asks. She calls him sometimes, but her happy tone sounds too forced.

 

“Did you and Clint have pizzas without me? Did I miss pizza night?” She asks, words tripping over themselves as they scramble out of her mouth. Bucky frowns. There's hardly such thing as missing out on pizza. Clint‘s always got some in his fridge, if not a fresh one out on the counter.

 

“We can have pizzas when you get home,” Bucky promises.

 

“Thanks Buck! Can we get a pineapple one?”

 

And oh.

 

“I'll be there in an hour,” Bucky promises. “I'm already halfway across town. Tell Barb that Kate just came back from a two-week holiday and you really want to see her.”

 

“Really? I can't wait to see her!” Becca exclaims, already acting the part. “See you soon.”

 

 _Thank God for code words_ , Bucky thinks as he flicks on his blinker and pulls out of the carpark.

 

* * *

 

In the rush to pick Becca up and make sure she's okay, Bucky completely forgets about Steve. In fact, he only remembers when he pulls up in the driveway.

 

Thank fuck he picked Steve up, and there's no bike outside to tip Becca off.

 

“Can we watch a movie?” She asks, climbing out of her seat and grabbing her bag from the boot.

 

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.” Bucky says, squinting at the sky. The forecast said rain, and the clouds are already pulling over the sun. Perfect for a day in.

 

He flicks a quick text off to Steve and prays he gets it in time as Becca leans against the front door.

 

“Buckyyyy,” she whines, flicking the locked handle.

 

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” He laughs, nudging her aside so he can unlock the door. Becca shoves past him as soon as it opens, making a beeline for her room.

 

“Don't drag your bag along the floor!” Bucky calls after her. “That's how they wear out so fast!”

 

He watches her swing the bag up off the floor before she disappears behind her bedroom door.

 

“Code fucking red,” Bucky hisses as he falls into his own room, shutting the door behind him. Steve's sitting on his bed, fully dressed and doing up his laces.

 

“A longer warning would've been nice,” Steve says drily. The corner of his mouth twitches up and Bucky crosses the room to kiss him.

 

“We have a codeword,” Bucky explains against Steve's lips. “She says _pineapple_ and I drop everything for her. She wouldn't tell me what's up but she doesn't have to.”

 

“That's a really good system,” Steve says.

 

“Except for the part where you're held hostage in my room with no mode of transport to get home,” Bucky points out. He has to whisper, the walls aren't too thick and Becca's just across the hallway.

 

“I'll climb out your window and bus home, no sweat,” Steve says, smiling all sweetly.

 

“I'm so sorry,” Bucky groans, allowing himself to flop down on his bed for a moment. Steve hovers over him, and it's unfair that he looks this attractive from such an unflattering angle.

 

“Don't ever apologise for putting Becca first,” Steve says, leaning down to lick along Bucky's neck.

 

“We were going to have such a great weekend but we didn't even have sex _once_.”

 

“You need to get over that,” Steve says calmly as his mouth gets lower. Bucky really wants to continue but he can hear Becca's door open.

 

“Bucky?” She calls, and Steve snickers into Bucky's neck.

 

“Just getting into my pjs!” He calls out, shoving Steve off him. Steve rolls back over to watch as Bucky strips down and pills on his flying pig pjs. They're blue and sparkly and say “ _On Cloud Nine_ ” and they're the comfiest things he owns.

 

“Oh my God,” Steve whispers. “I love them.”

 

“Shut up,” Bucky hisses, but he kisses Steve once more before heading to the door. “I'll see if Kate can babysit next weekend, okay? To make up for this shitstorm.”

 

“You do that,” Steve grins. He doesn't look too bothered by the change of events, but Bucky doesn't stick around to ask.

 

* * *

 

They decide on _Balto._ It's a good movie with a nice message, and no parents die. Really, it's an all round winner.

 

“She said you were confusing me,” Becca says about halfway through. The comment comes from nowhere. Bucky looks over at her.

 

“Who?” He asks.

 

“Barb. She said you're trying to turn me into a boy and that maybe if you were straight you wouldn't have cut my hair.”

 

Bucky's spine stiffens, but Becca's on the verge of tears here. It's not his turn to be hurt.

 

“Did she say that to your face?” He asks, focusing on keeping his voice level.

 

“She said it to Dan at breakfast but we were all at the table.”

 

“I'm not trying to turn you into anything. You know that, right?” Bucky asks, setting the popcorn on the floor so it's not at risk of spilling everywhere.

 

“I know. I cut my own hair, not you,” Becca sniffles. She hunches her shoulders and edges her way towards Bucky on the couch.

 

“Yeah. And if you were a boy there'd be nothing wrong with that, too,” he continues.

 

“I know. I'm a girl and i like being a girl but i also like having short hair. I like having you as my brother and i like that you're gay but i don't like how Barb talked about it.”

 

“Come here,” Bucky says softly, opening his arms to her. Becca crawls into them and tucks her head under his chin. “You did the right thing in calling me. I'm proud of you.”

 

“I didn't even do anything,” Becca mumbles.

 

“You got yourself out of an uncomfortable situation,” Bucky says, squeezing her. “That's plenty to be proud of.”

 

* * *

 

It's been a slow day, the office warming up in the afternoon sun. Bucky's got nothing to do and the heat’s making him tired, so he pushes himself off the desk and flops back in his chair.

 

“Just go home,” Dugan says, flicking a rubber band at him. It hits Bucky on the nose and he swats lazily through the air.

 

“You gonna leave too?” Bucky asks, because he doesn’t want to hightail it out of here if it means Dugan’s stuck to tie up the loose ends alone.

 

“Yep, even I’m heading home,” Dugan sighs, shutting off his computer and standing up. “So get outta here so I can lock up.”

 

The drive home is quick; there’s not much traffic at 2:30 on a Tuesday afternoon. Bucky contemplates picking Becca straight up from school, but he’s already paid for the after school care, and she loves it there, and Bucky hasn’t been for a run in ages. He heads straight home, deciding he’ll take Lucky out and pick Becca up at the end of his run and they’ll walk home together.

 

Bucky relishes in the feeling of the sun on his skin and slight breeze on his face as he jogs through the streets. It’s warm, but out in the fresh air it’s not actually _hot_ , and Bucky can’t wipe the dopey smile off his face.

 

Bucky has a key to Clint’s place, but the door is unlocked when he gets there.

 

“Hello?” He calls out, stepping into the house.

 

“Bucky? What are you doing here?” Kate calls back. Her voice is coming from the lounge so Bucky pops his head in. Kate’s sitting on the couch in a purple tank top and little black shorts. Her sunglasses are perched on her head and she’s holding the xbox controller, the tv screen showing the pause menu.

 

“Finished work early, thought I’d take Lucky out,” Bucky shrugs.

 

“I took him out this morning, but go ahead. He’s in the yard,” Kate says with a glance over her shoulder.

 

“Sweet as,” Bucky says. He’s about to head out to grab the dog, but his eyes catch on the second remote, tucked into Kate’s side. He could almost pass it off as just casually there, except the power button is glowing. And when he looks at the tv, he can make out the split screen in the dimmed background.

 

“Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, do you have _company_?” Bucky grins.

 

“No!” Kate hisses, but her eyes flick to the hallway and the toilet flushes. “...Maybe?”

 

“Well, then. Don’t let me interrupt,” Bucky laughs. Kate flips him off and he slips out the back door, snagging Lucky’s lead on the way out.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s hot and sweaty when he arrives at the school, and the first thing Becca says is, “You stink,” followed closely by “You brought Lucky!”

 

“Hello to you too,” Bucky laughs, but passes over the leash for Becca to hold while he signs her out.

 

“I wish Wanda was still here,” Becca says as she scratches Lucky behind the ears. “She would love Lucky.”

 

“Maybe next time, yeah?” Bucky says before slipping inside.

 

Steve's behind the desk focused on something on his laptop. he doesn't notice Bucky until he talks.

 

“Demanding paperwork?” Bucky asks and Steve's head snaps up.

 

“Yeah,” he says, eyes tracking Peggy as she leaves the room to talk to a parent. “So demanding.”

 

Once Peggy's out of sight Steve turns the computer around so Bucky can see what he's doing.

 

“Top 50 Vines,” Bucky reads. “Wow.”

 

“You would not believe how obsessed with memes these kids are, Buck,” Steve sighs, turning the computer back around. “I've heard twelve year olds say _Deez Nuts_ too many times to count. But I still think I'm going to miss Vine.”

 

“RIP,” Bucky says.

 

“Amen to that,” Steve agrees. Bucky snorts and finishes signing Becca out.

 

“I'll see you later,” he says, smiling at Steve before turning to go.

 

“Yeah. Text me,” Steve says.

 

There's a small crowd around Becca and Lucky when Bucky gets back outside, and the dog is soaking up the attention.

 

“You almost ready, baby?” Bucky asks. Becca looks up at him and nods.

 

“Yep! C'mon, Lucky!”

 

Lucky, like the loyal dog he is, comes instantly when Becca calls for him. Bucky grins and bends down to pat him.

 

“Do we have to go straight home?” Becca asks as they walk to the main gate.

 

“What did you have in mind?” Bucky asks.

 

“I wanna show you something,” Becca says, taking Bucky's hand in her free one. She leads him to the field by the carpark before dropping his hand and sprinting off. Lucky runs at her side, leash bouncing between them.

 

“Bucky, look!” Becca calls. She drops Luckys leash and scrambles to the top of the bank. “Three, two, one-”

 

And she jumps, sliding down the dirt trail and rolling to the ground. Lucky pads over to sniff her when she reaches the bottom. His leash trails through the dirt so Bucky squats down to unclip it.

 

“I just washed those leggings,” Bucky sighs. First day off the line and they're already covered in dirt.

 

“Buckyyy,” Becca whines, pulling on his hand. “It's fun!”

 

“I guess you're already dirty,” Bucky mutters as Becca climbs the bank again. “You might as well keep going.”

 

“It's fun, Bucky!” Becca calls as she slides down it again. “You should try.”

 

Bucky's about to say no, but he realises he doesn't really have an excuse. His clothes already need a wash, and Luckys not about to run off if he's left on his own.

 

“All right,” Bucky says, climbing up the bank with Becca. “Let's do this.”

 

Becca goes first, this time on her tummy. Bucky scared she's gonna smash her face in for a second, but she makes it down okay and gives him two thumbs up to prove it.

 

“Come on!” She calls. “Don't be a scaredy-cat!”

 

Bucky can see cars coming and going as the rest of the kids are being picked up, and Steve's bike parked off to the side. He takes a moment to enjoy the view before sitting down and pushing himself off. It's surprisingly fun as he bounces down the hill and almost crashes into Lucky.

 

“Let's go down together!” Becca suggests, grabbing Bucky's hand and hauling him to his feet. She sits in his lap at the top and he keeps his hands on her hips so she doesn't fall off, and she's laughing so hard that Bucky can't help but join in.

 

“Again!” She says, and they go down again. And again and again.

 

“How about we race?” Bucky suggests after a while. They're both covered in dirt and grinning ear to ear. Lucky jumps around them, sensing their excitement.

 

They position themselves at the top, side by side.

 

“On my count,” Bucky says. “Three, two, one, go!” It's not a fair race because Bucky's got longer legs and he's a lot stronger. He was considering going easy on Becca, but she'd know and neither of them would have fun. So he launches himself down, comfortably beating Becca.

 

“My tailbone!” He moans, starfishing out on the grass at the bottom. Becca laughs as he joins him.

 

“Serves you right,” she says, sitting at his feet. “Can we go again?”

 

“I need to rest. You go again, I'll join you in a minute.” Bucky closes his eyes and lets the sun soak through him as he listens to Becca climb and bank and Lucky wander around. He can hear footsteps, and they don't sound like Becca but they don't sound like a dog, either, but he's not certain so he just waits.

 

“You look beat,” a familiar voice says, and Bucky opens his eyes to see Steve staring down at him.

 

“I landed funny,” Bucky says, not moving from his spot.

 

“Steve!” Becca calls. Steve moves from Bucky's line of sight but Bucky doesn't follow. His ass hurts.

 

“Hey, Becca,” Steve says. “Whatcha doin'?”

 

“Look!” Becca says, and Bucky can hear her tumble down the dirt slide.

 

“Nice one,” Steve says. He sounds like he's smiling and the thought makes Bucky smile.

 

“Wanna race me?” Becca asks.

 

“I think I'm good, thanks.”

 

“Bucky's faster. You shouldn't race him because you'll lose.”

 

“Is that so?” Steve says. Bucky props himself up on his elbows so he can see the two of them.

 

“Yep,” Becca says happily, popping the "P".

 

“I'm speedy,” Bucky says. Steve shoots him a challenging look.

 

“Prove it,” he grins, moving closer to help Bucky up.

 

“Fine,” Bucky says, ignoring the pain in his tailbone. It's mostly died down now, anyway. “Becca, you're the judge. Count us down.”

 

They sit at the top of the bank,hip to hip, watching Becca as she holds Lucky's collar so he doesn't get in the way.

 

She counts down for them, and when she says go Bucky stands up and leaps down head first, roly-polying down the bank. He tumbles, and he tumbles fast, beating Steve by a fraction as he sprawls out at Becca's feet. She lets go of Lucky's collar and the dog surges forwards, licking at Bucky's neck.

 

“I think I died,” Bucky groans, face down in the dirt. “But at least I won “

 

“I demand a rematch,” Steve complains. “I didn't know you could forwards-roll down.

 

“No rematch,” Bucky says. “I can't move.”

 

“Yeah, you lose Steve!” Becca sings as she tugs Lucky off Bucky's back. “Come on Lucky, let's find you a stick.”

 

“You alright?” Steve asks once Becca's trailed off. He smooths Bucky's hair off his forehead, and Bucky can't see Becca but he trusts that Steve wouldn't do something so intimate in front of her.

 

“I'm alright,” Bucky croaks. He hurts all over and doesn't want to move, but he's not seriously injured. Nothing to worry about.

 

“Let me help you up,” Steve says softly, arms coming around Bucky.

 

“Ugh,” Bucky groans.

 

“Come on. Becca will get concerned if you're still down when she comes back,” Steve reasons.

 

“Good point,” Bucky sighs, letting Steve prop him up.

 

“You sure you're alright?” Steve asks. He's more doting than Bucky would've pegged him to be and it's kind of refreshing to be the one looked after.

 

It's also a bit annoying.

 

“I'm fine,” Bucky assures him, but he leans into Steve's side while they wait for Becca.

 

“Bucky! I found a stick!” Becca calls.

 

“We should probably get going, baby,” Bucky says, accepting Steve's help to his feet. It's a fifteen minute walk home and he'll be fine for it, but Steve's warm and comforting in a way Bucky seems to forget when they're not together.

 

“You'll be good?” Steve asks quietly in Bucky's ear.

 

“Yes, Steve,” Bucky laughs softly.

 

“Text me when you get home in one piece?” Steve presses. Bucky rolls his eyes and steps away Steve, towards Becca.

 

“If you insist,” Bucky says, then, slightly louder, “See ya, Steve.”

 

“Bye Steve!” Becca adds, running up to hug him. She doesn't come up very far on him, but Steve bends down to bridge the gap. It burns an image in his mind he never knew he needed, of Steve and Becca hugging. It's adorable.

 

Bucky looks away and clips Lucky's leash back onto his collar.

 

“Come on, Becca,” Bucky says, and Becca jogs back to his side, taking his hand in hers.

 

* * *

 

 **Bucky** : Home safe + sound

 

 **Steve** : Good :)

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky gets a call from Sam Wilson at midday, and he knows it's urgent because he's Becca's counselor, and he's never felt the need to call Bucky at work before.

 

“Rebecca punched her classmate,” Sam says, voice serious in Bucky's ear. He looks up and meets Dugan's eye from across the office. Dugan nods once and Bucky grabs his coat and stands up.

 

“I'll be there as soon as I can,” he says, and Sam Wilson hangs up.

 

* * *

 

 

Becca is curled on the couch, face tucked into Steve's arm, of all people. The office is quiet and Sam Wilson is the only other person there when Bucky arrives.

 

“James,” he greets, rising to his feet. Becca's head snaps up and Bucky can instantly tell she's been crying. “Let's take this into my office, shall we?”

 

Steve says something quietly into Becca’s ear and she nods, standing up carefully. Bucky's still a bit surprised, he doesn't know why Becca was sitting next to him instead of Sam.

 

“I've got to go to OSCAR,” Steve says apologetically. Becca lets go of his hand, opting to take Bucky's instead.

 

“Bye, Steve,” she says quietly.

 

Sam opens his door for them, and Bucky goes in first. It's a bright room, big windows for natural light and colourful posters on the wall. There's a table in the middle, couches on the side, and a small desk tucked in the corner. Becca lets go of his hand and heads straight for a couch, tucking herself around the cushion.

 

Bucky settles himself down next to Becca, not touching, but close enough that she can reach out for him if she wants to.

 

“Becca, how about we start with you telling Bucky what happened today?” Sam suggests, smiling softly at Becca. Bucky can see why he has this job, Sam just radiates warmth and unconditional support.

 

“Maxwell started it,” Becca mutters, tucking her feet under her butt and refusing to look up.  

 

“And how is that?” Sam asks.

 

“He- I'm not going to _tell_ on him!” Becca growls, sinking further into her corner. Bucky wants to reach out for her, but holds back.

 

“There's nothing wrong with telling an adult, Rebecca,” Sam says, But Bucky knows his sister, he knows that's not how she sees it.

 

“There's a difference between telling tales and getting help from a bully,” Bucky says instead, this time reaching out to put a hand on her ankle. She looks up at him with her big blue eyes and her lip twitches slightly.

 

“He said mean things about you and mum and dad. He was _wrong_ and deserved to be punched.”

 

“No one deserves to be punched.” Sam's voice bounces off the walls, all but ignored. Bucky wouldn't really condone violence, but Becca's clearly shaken, and would only throw the first punch if she believed in it.

 

“What did he say?” Bucky asks.

 

“You're not gonna like it,” Becca warns, but she's smiling shyly now, left eyebrow slightly raised. Across from them, Sam lets out an annoyed sigh.

 

“What did he say?” Bucky repeats. Becca's smile disappears.

 

“He said Mum and Dad crashed their car on purpose because they're embarrassed to have a-” Becca stops and glances at Sam before continuing, “f-word for a son.”

 

“F-word?” Bucky asks. “Fucker?”

 

“F-A-G-G-I-T,” Becca whispers.

 

“O-T,” Bucky corrects before he can stop himself.

 

“Becca, I can see why you felt the need to resort to violence, but you should have told your teacher,” Sam interrupts. Bucky's glad he's there, because all he wants to do is scoop Becca up and pretend there's no problem.

 

“I won't do it again,” Becca grumbles. “He just needed to shut up.”

 

“We weren't aware of the situation to the full extent, but we will bring Maxwell in to talk to him about his behaviour.” Sam meets Bucky's eyes with a steady gaze and small smile. “James, do you mind if I have a quick word with Becca in private?”

 

“Go for it,” Bucky says, rising to his feet and pressing a quick kiss to Becca's forehead. “I'll sign you out of OSCAR for the day, baby.”

 

The corridors are quiet, hardly a noise even coming from the classrooms as Bucky makes his way to the OSCAR Den. The blinds are pulled but Bucky knows Steve's in there so he knocks twice before coming in.

 

“Bucky, hey,” Steve greets, glancing up from his laptop. Bucky gives him an awkward smile.

 

“You probably figured, but Becca won't be in today. I'm gonna take her home.”

 

“Cool, thanks for letting me know.” Steve returns Bucky's smile, but it doesn't look as awkward and jagged as Bucky's felt.

 

He should go. Pick Becca up from Sam's office and head home instead of just loitering at Steve's work. But he doesn't wanna go.

 

“She likes you a lot,” Bucky says, because he's not quite ready to go but he doesn't know how else to stay.

 

Bucky's not crying but there must be something else on his face because Steve pushes back his chair and gathers Bucky in his arms in an instant.

 

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, running a hand through Bucky's hair. “You're okay. Becca's okay.”

 

“Today wouldn't have happened if she wasn't living with me. If I wasn't gay,” and it's not that Bucky isn't out and proud, but it still stings that to some people he's nothing Gay. Becca shouldn't have to deal with this sort of shit.

 

“Don't _talk_ like that,” Steve hisses, gripping Bucky a bit too tight. “This wouldn't have happened if that kid hadn't learnt to hate. Don't take this one out on yourself, Buck. That's not fair on anyone.”

 

Bucky takes a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of Steve before wiping at his eyes. He's not crying. He's not going to cry. He's going to gather himself and walk out the door and pick up his sister and he's going to give her the best fucking life ever.

 

“I should get going,” Bucky sighs as he doesn't get going.

 

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, but he keeps Bucky in his arms. “I'll text you later, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, pulling out of Steve's arms. He threads a hand through Steve's hair and brings him down for a quick kiss before slipping out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Becca’s out of the car as soon as it's parked, digging the spare key out from the potted plant and letting herself in.

 

“Becca!” Bucky calls, jogging after her. He's not sure what he wants to say, but he doesn't want her to be alone right now. He comes inside to find her sitting on her bed. Her door is left open so he comes in and sits next to her.

 

"I like it here" Becca sobs, curling in on herself. Bucky reaches out for her, but she flinches away. Bucky pulls his hand back, not wanting to upset her further, but every part of him aches to hold her.

 

"I like it here and I like Ms Romanoff and Sam and Steve and Sharon and I like Wanda and I like seeing you every day and I like Lucky and I like Kate and Clint but I miss them and I don't want to stop missing them because then they'll be gone forever."

 

"Mum and Dad will never be gone forever, okay?" Bucky says gently. He doesn't reach out for her, he _doesn't_ , but God he wants to. "You're allowed to move on. That doesn't mean you'll stop missing them, and it doesn't mean you'll ever forget them. But baby, you're allowed to be happy."

 

"Sometimes I want to call you Dad," Becca whispers. Her head's still tucked into her knees, and she's so quiet Bucky almost doubts he hears her. But she goes completely still, as if she's made a mistake, and Bucky knows he heard her right.

 

"Becca..." Bucky says, voice catching in his throat. What else _can_ he say?

 

"I know you're not him," Becca says quickly, snapping her head up. "And I don't want you to be him. But you do the same things he did and you look like him and I-"

 

This time, Becca melts into Bucky's embrace and he holds her close, running his hand over her short hair, the fuzz tickling his palm.

 

"I love you, baby. I love you so much. We'll get through this," Bucky whispers, rocking his baby sister in his arms. Her fingers dig through his shirt, clutching his arms like a lifeline, but he doesn't dare move away.

 

"We're gonna be okay, we'll get through this," he repeats, but he can't guarantee the words of assurance aren't just for himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve calls once Bucky's put Becca to bed and is cleaning up before he heads to bed himself.

 

“How are you doing?” Steve asks, voice soft the way it gets when he's lying down. Bucky can't help the fond smile that slips out.

 

“Been better,” he admits. “I noticed she's been off for a while, but when we got home she told me she likes it here. She's starting to move on and she can't handle that.”

 

“God, that's hard,” Steve sighs. Bucky finds himself nodding as he unloads the dishwasher, phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder.

 

“She doesn't deserve all this,” Bucky says, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't start crying.

 

“Neither do you,” Steve says. His voice is soft and warm, and Bucky just wants to crawl into bed beside him and be held.

 

“Anyway,” Bucky says, because he runs a very serious risk of crying if he doesn't change the topic. “How did your day go?”

 

Steve takes the hint and tells Bucky about the gardening he did with the kids. He sounds happy, talking about his day, and it makes Bucky smile.

 

“I'm pretty sure we killed the school's parsley, but I'm also pretty sure parsley can live through anything,” Steve laughs, and Bucky's breath catches in his throat.

 

“I miss you,” he says. It hasn't been just the two of them in a while, but it isn't the sex he's missing.

 

“I miss you too,” Steve says, voice low and quiet. Bucky's about to say something, but he hears a creak in the floorboards and freezes.

 

“Hang on,” he says, placing his phone screen-down on the counter and stepping out into the hallway. Becca stands there, eyes wide, in here pajamas.

 

“Water,” she says, still not moving from her spot.

 

“Come on,” Bucky says, turning back into the kitchen.

 

“Who were you talking to?” Becca asks as Bucky fills up a glass for her.

 

“I was on the phone,” Bucky tells her. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

 

Becca watches him as she down hers glass, but she doesn't ask any more questions.

 

“Goodnight, Bucky,” she says.

 

“I love you. I'll see you in the morning,” Bucky promises, waiting til she's left before picking his phone back up.

 

“Sorry, Becca just got up to get some water.”

 

“That's alright. I think I might go to bed now, though.” Steve says around a yawn. “I'll talk to you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah. G’night, Stevie.”

 

“Night, Buck,” Steve says, and hangs up. Bucky takes a minute to finish reloading the dishwasher before making his way to his own bedroom. He passes Becca's on the way and pops his head in.

 

“Hey,” she says, eyes half closed and voice heavy.

 

“Hey,” Bucky whispers, coming inside to tuck her in. Pooh’s dangling out the side, almost dropping to the floor, so Bucky picks him up and tucks him right up by Becca's face. “Sleep tight, baby.”

 

“Mm,” Becca hums, her eyes dropping closed. Bucky presses a gentle kiss to her forehead before slipping out of her room and into his own.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bucky!” Becca shouts when he comes to pick her up from OSCAR. “Look at my tooth!”

 

Her tooth's been wiggly for about a week, and Bucky clearly wasn't thinking properly when he put an apple in her lunchbox because it's bleeding and sticking out at an unnatural angle.

 

“Ha! Neat,” Bucky grins, tilting her chin up so he can see it better. “Can I pull it out?”

 

“ _Yes!_ ” Becca gasps, grabbing his hand and tugging him inside. “But wash your hands first.”

 

Steve's inside, and he seems to be everywhere since that morning at Pac’s.

 

“Hey, Bucky,” he says, barely looking up from the play-doh. “Becca show you her wiggly tooth?”

 

“I'm gonna get it out,” Bucky says. He washes his hands in the kitchen before grabbing some tissues and sitting Becca down.

 

“Aaaah,” she says, opening her mouth wide and looking at Bucky.

 

“Okay. Grab my arm if you need me to stop,” Bucky tells her, and then he's got a tissue in her mouth and is pulling at the tooth.

 

It's a small tooth, top row, and Bucky's fingers are too big to get a proper grip on it so it takes him a while to find the right angle. But then he's got it, and he's pulling, and Becca's making a funny sound but not grabbing his arm so he keeps going, and-

 

The tooth is out but it probably wasn't ready because Becca bites down _hard_ on reflex and Bucky's hand is still in her mouth.

 

“Shit!” He hisses, and Becca's mouth opens immediately. There's blood everywhere, but it's all from the tooth. His hand has bite marks, but he's okay.

 

“You look like a vampire!” Steve laughs, and Bucky looks up properly.  Becca's grinning from ear to ear and there's blood running down her chin, and a small crowd of children has gathered to watch the dentistry work.

 

“Can I see the tooth?” Becca asks, reaching for Bucky.

 

“Water first,” Steve interrupts, a little green plastic cup in his hand. “And tissues.”

 

Bucky makes his way back to the sink, washing his hand and replacing the tissues for Becca's tooth while Steve helps her clean up the blood.

 

“That was really brave!” Wanda says from somewhere behind Bucky. “And a lovely colour.”

 

Bucky hears Steve snort a laugh and finds himself grinning, too.

 

“Thanks, Wanda,” Becca says. “When the tooth fairy comes we can spend the money together.”

 

“And just how rich do you think this tooth fairy is?” Bucky asks, moving to stand next to Steve. Steve bumps their shoulders together, casual enough for to go unnoticed.

 

“It doesn't matter because Wanda is my friend,” Becca says. “But I hope she's very rich.”

 

Steve laughs again, and Bucky claps him on the shoulder. “Go grab your stuff, baby. I'll sign you out,” he says, and Becca runs off.

 

There are a few parents around, and a couple of supervisors are inside too, but Steve follows Bucky back to the desk.

 

“I think that was the highlight of my day,” Steve grins, tucking his chin in and shaking his head slightly.

 

“My hand begs to differ,” Bucky snorts, holding his hand out for Steve to see. Steve takes it and examines it carefully, as if knows what he's doing. Bucky's willing to bet he's bullshitting.

 

“She's got a strong jaw, I'll give her that,” Steve finally says, dropping Bucky's hand.

 

“She's half crocodile,” Bucky says.

 

“Am not!” Becca protests, coming up behind him and giving him a fright. Her words come out muffled through the wad of tissues she's stuck in her mouth and Bucky ruffles her hair.

 

“Come on, croc. Let's have soup for dinner,” Bucky says, and Becca even lets him grab her hand as they head back to the car.

 

“Bye Steve!” Becca calls over her shoulder. Bucky glances back in time to catch Steve wink at him before they leave the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Becca is getting her face painted when Bucky arrives to pick her up. She's an elf or something, bright green. Sharon's painting, and she smiles hello to Bucky but keeps painting Becca's face. Becca hasn't seen him.

 

“What is she?” Bucky asks when Steve slides up beside him.

 

“I honestly have no clue,” Steve murmurs, his arm brushing Bucky's.

 

“An elf, I think,” Bucky says. “Or zombie. Maybe a troll?”

 

“Ask her,” Steve says, before disappearing to help another kid.

 

“Hey, baby,” Bucky says, grabbing a chair to sit next to  her. “What are you getting painted?”

 

Sharon lets out a sharp bark of laughter, but doesn't say anything.

 

“Hi Bucky,” Becca says. “Guess!”

 

Bucky was hoping she wouldn't say that, but he makes a thoughtful noise before asking, “An elf?”

 

“No,” Becca says.

 

“Zombie?”

 

“No.”

 

“Troll? Ogre?”

 

“No. Keep guessing.”

 

“A lizard?” Bucky asks. He has no clue.

 

“No!”

 

“I give up,” Bucky says. Sharon looks like she's gonna laugh if she opens her mouth, but keeps painting Becca's face. It's just green, nothing else.

 

“I'm celery!” Becca exclaims, and it takes everything Bucky is not to burst out laughing.

 

“Celery! Of course, how did I not get that?” Bucky grins, standing up.

 

“I think this is the best celery I think I've ever painted,” Sharon says.

 

“You're doing a good job, kiddo,” Bucky tells her before moving back to the desk.

 

“What is she?” Steve asks, magically reappearing.

 

“Celery,” Bucky snorts.

 

“That's brilliant,” Steve laughs. “She's brilliant.”

 

“Who the hell wants celery face paint?” Bucky mutters under his breath, but he's smiling.

 

“Only the best,” Steve says, and it warms Bucky right through.

 

* * *

 

 

“I think I'm falling in love with Steve,” Bucky says as soon as he's put Becca to bed. He was going to be _chill_ about this, damn it.

 

“You got it ba-ad,” Clint sings, way off key and grinning like a fool. Bucky kicks his knee as he walks past him to sit on the far end of the couch.

 

“That's literally what I was saying,” Bucky grumbles. He sinks into the cushions and refuses to look at Clint.

 

“What's the damn problem then? He's a great guy and Becca loves him. And you _know_ he's into you.”

 

“He's not romantically into me, we _fuck_ and that's all,” Bucky spits. It's not fair to Clint, but he feels like shit about all this and he knows Clint won't take it personally. (It's not like he hasn't sat with Clint through worse.)

 

“Barnes, man. We both know that's becoming less and less true,” Clint points out. Bucky still doesn't look at him.

 

“And Becca loves him, sure, but she loves him as her after school carer. Not as her brother's boyfriend. That could _completely_ change the dynamics.”

 

“Becca loves him and as long as he stays in her life I doubt she cares how that is,” Clint scoffs. He sounds more amused than annoyed, though,and Bucky doesn't know if he should be offended or relieved. (He's relieved.)

 

“That's another thing-” Bucky begins, but Clint cuts him off with an melodramatic sigh.

 

“Of course it is,” he mutters. Bucky ignores him.

 

“If this doesn't work out between us then Becca will feel that.”

 

“You haven't even started dating! You can't seriously be thinking about the end, right?” Clint asks in disbelief. Bucky meets his eyes and he sighs. (Again.)

 

“Of course you are,” he mutters. “James fuckin' Barnes.”

 

“Watch yourself,” Bucky growls, but he can't really defend himself when he's faced with the truth.

 

“All I've gotten from this _trainwreck_ of a conversation is that you like Steve and Becca likes Steve. There are no cons and you are dramatic.”

 

“Con: Steve wants to keep sleeping with me and I lose him and make things awkward between him and Becca because I've developed feelings.”

 

“Not applicable because Steve loves Becca without you in the picture and would never do anything to make her uncomfortable. Also not applicable because Steve values you as a person and it is totally reasonable for him to be developing feelings for you too.” Clint shifts on the couch so he can kick Bucky in the thigh. Bucky scowls but lets him kick for a moment. He's being a bitch, he deserves it.

 

“When we first realised our connections to Becca he suggested we date,” Bucky admits after a moment. Clint lets out and insufferable groan, and although it's at Bucky's expense, he can't help but laugh at it.

 

“Shh!” He begs, glancing down the hall. “Becca's sleeping!”

 

“Are you telling me Steve asked you out _months_ ago and you still think he's Just Not That Into You?” Clint asks. Bucky owes him, like, six beers and three pizzas for putting up with this conversation.

 

“Yeah- no. It wasn't like that! He only said it because a boyfriend is easier to explain than a fuck buddy.”

 

“Bro, it is _so_ like that. How did you misunderstand that? Why the fuck would he offer that?”

 

“Shut up,” Bucky mutters. “It made sense.”

 

“It made no sense, Bucky. Admit you screwed up and ask him out,” Clint says, standing up. “I need another beer.”

 

“Same. Why am I like this?”

 

“Beats me,” Clint calls from the kitchen. “You're going to talk to Becca and see how she'd feel about you dating, then you're going to talk to _Steve_ to see how he'd feel about you dating, and then you're all going to be happy and I will never have to give advice again.”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, holding out his hand. Clint presses a cold bottle into it and settles back down at his end of the couch.

 

“You came to me for advice, Barnes. You must be fucking desperate.”

 

“Hey,” Bucky says softly. “You're my best bro. Of course I'd come to you.”

 

“ _Bro_ ,” Clint says softly, hand over his heart. Bucky throws a pillow at him.

 

* * *

 

“How would you feel if I started dating someone?” Bucky asks. He glances down at Becca, but her gaze is fixed on Lucky up ahead. Her hand tightens slightly around his and he tries not to take it as a bad sign.

 

(Tries, and fails.)

 

“What if I don’t like him?” Becca says eventually, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

 

“Then I will call it off,” Bucky tells her without hesitation.

 

“But what if you love him but I don’t like him? That’s not fair.”

 

“I will call it off, Becks. You are the most important person in my life, okay? Boys come and go, but it’s you and me forever. I will _always_ choose you, over anyone. Okay, baby?” Bucky promises, stopping in the middle of the path. Lucky gives an annoyed pull on his leash, but stops after a moment. Becca doesn’t meet Bucky’s eyes.

 

“I don’t want to get in the way,” she whispers. Bucky kneels down to her level. She’s slightly taller when he does this, and he takes both her hands in his.

 

“You will never get in the way. You might do something I don’t like, we might have to compromise on things, but you will never be in the way. Nothing will ever be more important to me than you. Do you understand?”

 

“I understand,” she says. Her voice is soft and quiet, and her hands shake slightly in his.

 

“Come here,” Bucky says, sweeping her into a hug. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Bucky,” Becca says, melting in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

“I think this stopped being just about sex a while ago,” Bucky says that night as he lies in Steve's arms. Kate's at his house with Becca, and he's at Steve's again, as comfortable as he is at his own place. That realisation hit him a while back, but he's learning to accept it.

 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, as if Bucky could mean anything other than what he blatantly said.

 

“I mean,” Bucky says, shifting in Steve's arms so they're face to face, chest to chest. “I mean that I'm not sure I want to keep doing this how we're doing it. I'd rather- I want to be your boyfriend.”

 

“You want to be my boyfriend,” Steve parrots back.

 

“Yeah. Like. Spend more time with you out of bed. Maybe with Becca too,” Bucky says. He doesn't know how to explain what he wants, but he knows he can't keep this up if it is just sex. “Definitely with Becca too.”

 

“And how does Becca feel about this?” Steve asks carefully.

 

“She doesn't want to get in the way but she won't. She'll never be in the way. She's _Becca.”_

 

“Of course,” Steve says, but he still hasn't addressed Bucky's question properly.

 

“How would you feel? About that?” Bucky asks. It's too dark for him to make out Steve's expression, but they're close enough for Bucky to feel his heartbeat, and it's not erratic.

 

“I think,” Steve says slowly, and the tension is fucking _killing_ Bucky, “We could make it work.”

 

“Yeah?” Bucky asks and he sounds so hopeful even to his own ears.

 

“Of course, Bucky. I'm too invested in you to continue this the way we've been going. I just- I didn't want to scare you off with being too eager.”

 

“Do you think we could tell her tomorrow? Or is that too soon?” Bucky asks.

 

“I'm ready when you are,” Steve says.

 

“Okay,” Bucky says. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Kate's up when Bucky gets home, but Becca's still sleeping. Honestly, Bucky's surprised Kate's awake this early, let alone ready to leave.

 

“I have a busy day,” she says, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.

 

“I haven't even paid you,” Bucky frowns, watching her reach for the handle.  

 

“You don't need to pay me for last night. I actually had a lot of fun, and you deserve time to yourself without having to pay to get it.”

 

“Okay…” Bucky says slowly, but Kate vanishes out the door before he can process it all. “Huh.”

 

He drops his take away bag from Pac’s onto the counter before heading to the shower.

 

“How was your night with Kate?" Bucky asks Becca over breakfast when she finally rises.

  
  
"Good," Becca says, mouth full of muffin. "We played Snakes and Ladders and America got mad when she lost."

  
  
"Haha, nice," Bucky says, reaching for the coffee pot. "Wait- who's America?"

  
  
"I don't know. Kate's friend but also maybe her girlfriend. They don't kiss but also I've never seen _you_ kiss." Becca fixes Bucky with an intense look and he coughs down his coffee.

  
  
" _What_ ?” He gasps, looking at her with wide eyes. Becca grins at him.

  
  
"America is Kate's friend and she comes over sometimes and is with Kate when she picks me up sometimes and she's so cool," Becca explains in one big breath.

  
  
"Oh my God," Bucky grins. He leans forwards slightly, hands sliding closer to Becca. "Tell me more."

  
  
"There's not anything more. She's cool and pretty and is really bad at Snakes and Ladders."

  
  
"How can you be bad at Snakes and Ladders? It's purely based on luck," Bucky scoffs.

  
  
"She just is," Becca shrugs.

  
  
"Thank you for telling me this," Bucky says solemnly.

  
  
"Okay? Is Kate going to get into trouble for having a friend over when she babysits?"

  
  
"No way," Bucky promises. "Not at all."

 

“Good. Because i like it when America comes over.”

 

“Hey, speaking of people coming over,” Bucky says awkwardly, “You okay if my friend comes over later today? I want you to meet him.”

 

“Is he your boyfriend?” Becca asks, narrowing her eyes.

 

“No!” Bucky says, way too quickly. “Maybe. No, he's not my boyfriend yet, but if you like him and like us together then maybe he might. Is that okay with you?”

 

“Only if he's nice,” Becca says, but she keeps pretty quiet after that and Bucky can't help the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.  

 

* * *

 

 

Steve comes over at 3pm, like they agreed, and Bucky still hasn't gotten over the butterflies in his gut.

 

“Is that him?” Becca asks as the doorbell goes, and Bucky nods.

 

“I'll get it,” he says, pushing himself to his feet.

 

“No,” Becca says, and she zips in front of him to get the door.

 

“Steve?” She says voice laced with surprise. “Are you going to be Bucky's boyfriend?”

 

“Let him in, baby. Don't make him do this on the doorstep,” Bucky sighs, coming up behind his sister. Steve grins at him from the doorway, hair slightly messy from his helmet and eyes warm and familiar.

 

“Hey Becca,” he says. “Hey, Buck.”

 

“Come in, Steve,” Bucky says, moving Becca to the side so Steve can get in off the street.

 

“Why are we doing this?” Becca asks suddenly. “You already know I like Steve.”

 

“I just wanted to make sure,” Bucky says. “You're okay with all this.”

 

“Yeah,” Becca says, smiling at them both. “It's _Steve_.”

 

“I really like your brother, Becca,” Steve says softly. Bucky and Becca let out identical groans and Steve laughs.

 

“Does this mean I get my afternoon tea first at OSCAR?” Becca asks.

 

“No,” Steve laughs.

 

“Does it mean we can paint in the weekend?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “We can do that.”

 

“Cool,” Becca says, as if she didn't hold Bucky's future in her words. “I'm going to my room now so you guys can, like, kiss or something.”

 

Bucky watches her go, heart hammering a million miles per minute- in a good way.  

 

“She said yes,” he breathes,  not daring to turn to look at Steve in case it's all an illusion.

 

“Yeah,” Steve says, hand coming to rest on Bucky's shoulder. He squeezes lightly, once. Bucky takes a deep breath, steadying himself before turning around. Steve's arm moves to encircle him and he looks down at Bucky with such fondness in his eyes.

 

“It's okay,” Bucky says quietly. “I think we're going to be okay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you can think of a better summary let me know please. I hate summaries. 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://wonderfullywandering-alone.tumblr.com/)


End file.
